Chapter XXXI: Letter IV (6)

Oh! to see it at sunset,--when warm o'er the Lake Its splendor at parting a summer eve throws, Like a bride full of blushes when lingering to take A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes!-- When the shrines thro' the foliage are gleaming half shown, And each hallows the hour by some rites of its own. Here the music of prayer from a minaret swells, Here the Magian his urn full of perfume is swinging, And here at the altar a zone of sweet bells Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is ringing.[279] Or to see it by moonlight when mellowly shines The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines, When the water-falls gleam like a quick fall of stars And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet From the cool, shining walks where the young people meet.-- Or at morn when the magic of daylight awakes A new wonder each minute as slowly it breaks, Hills, cupolas, fountains, called forth every one Out of darkness as if but just born of the Sun. When the Spirit of Fragrance is up with the day From his Haram of night-flowers stealing away; And the wind full of wantonness wooes like a lover The young aspen-trees,[280] till they tremble all over. When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes, And day with his banner of radiance unfurled Shines in thro' the mountainous portal[281] that opes, Sublime, from that Valley of bliss to the world!

But never yet by night or day, In dew of spring or summer's ray, Did the sweet Valley shine so gay As now it shines--all love and light, Visions by day and feasts by night! A happier smile illumes each brow; With quicker spread each heart uncloses, And all is ecstasy--for now The Valley holds its Feast of Roses;[282] The joyous Time when pleasures pour Profusely round and in their shower Hearts open like the Season's Rose,-- The Floweret of a hundred leaves[283] Expanding while the dew-fall flows And every leaf its balm receives.

'Twas when the hour of evening came Upon the Lake, serene and cool, When day had hid his sultry flame Behind the palms of BARAMOULE, When maids began to lift their heads. Refresht from their embroidered beds Where they had slept the sun away, And waked to moonlight and to play. All were abroad:--the busiest hive On BELA'S[284] hills is less alive When saffron-beds are full in flower, Than lookt the Valley in that hour. A thousand restless torches played Thro' every grove and island shade; A thousand sparkling lamps were set On every dome and minaret; And fields and pathways far and near Were lighted by a blaze so clear That you could see in wandering round The smallest rose-leaf on the ground, Yet did the maids and matrons leave Their veils at home, that brilliant eve; And there were glancing eyes about And cheeks that would not dare shine out In open day but thought they might Look lovely then, because 'twas night. And all were free and wandering And all exclaimed to all they met, That never did the summer bring So gay a Feast of Roses yet;-- The moon had never shed a light So clear as that which blest them there; The roses ne'er shone half so bright, Nor they themselves lookt half so fair.

And what a wilderness of flowers! It seemed as tho' from all the bowers And fairest fields of all the year, The mingled spoil were scattered here. The lake too like a garden breathes With the rich buds that o'er it lie,-- As if a shower of fairy wreaths Had fallen upon it from the sky! And then the sounds of joy,--the beat Of tabors and of dancing feet;-- The minaret-crier's chant of glee Sung from his lighted gallery,[285] And answered by a ziraleet From neighboring Haram, wild and sweet;-- The merry laughter echoing From gardens where the silken swing[286] Wafts some delighted girl above The top leaves of the orange-grove; Or from those infant groups at play Among the tents[287] that line the way, Flinging, unawed by slave or mother, Handfuls of roses at each other.-- Then the sounds from the Lake,--the low whispering in boats, As they shoot thro' the moonlight,--the dipping of oars And the wild, airy warbling that everywhere floats Thro' the groves, round the islands, as if all the shores Like those of KATHAY uttered music and gave An answer in song to the kiss on each wave.[288] But the gentlest of all are those sounds full of feeling That soft from the lute of some lover are stealing,-- Some lover who knows all the heart-touching power Of a lute and a sigh in this magical hour. Oh! best of delights as it everywhere is To be near the loved _One_,--what a rapture is his Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide O'er the Lake of CASHMERE with that _One_ by his side!

If woman can make the worst wilderness dear, Think, think what a Heaven she must make of CASHMERE!

So felt the magnificent Son of ACBAR, When from power and pomp and the trophies of war He flew to that Valley forgetting them all With the Light of the HARAM, his young NOURMAHAL. When free and uncrowned as the Conqueror roved By the banks of that Lake with his only beloved He saw in the wreaths she would playfully snatch From the hedges a glory his crown could not match, And preferred in his heart the least ringlet that curled Down her exquisite neck to the throne of the world.

There's a beauty for ever unchangingly bright, Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer-day's light, Shining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendor. This _was_ not the beauty--oh, nothing like this That to young NOURMAHAL gave such magic of bliss! But that loveliness ever in motion which plays Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days, Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flies From the lip to the cheek, from the cheek to the eyes; Now melting in mist and now breaking in gleams, Like the glimpses a saint hath of Heaven in his dreams. When pensive it seemed as if that very grace, That charm of all others, was born with her face! And when angry,--for even in the tranquillest climes Light breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes-- The short, passing anger but seemed to awaken New beauty like flowers that are sweetest when shaken. If tenderness touched her, the dark of her eye At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, From the depth of whose shadow like holy revealings From innermost shrines came the light of her feelings. Then her mirth--oh! 'twas sportive as ever took wing From the heart with a burst like the wild-bird in spring; Illumed by a wit that would fascinate sages, Yet playful as Peris just loosed from their cages.[289] While her laugh full of life, without any control But the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from her soul; And where it most sparkled no glance could discover, In lip, cheek, or eyes, for she brightened all over,-- Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon When it breaks into dimples and, laughs in the sun. Such, such were the peerless enchantments that gave NOURMAHAL the proud Lord of the East for her slave: And tho' bright was his Haram,--a living parterre Of the flowers[290] of this planet--tho' treasures were there, For which SOLIMAN'S self might have given all the store That the navy from OPHIR e'er winged to his shore, Yet dim before _her_ were the smiles of them all And the Light of his Haram was young NOURMAHAL!

But where is she now, this night of joy, When bliss is every heart's employ?-- When all around her is so bright, So like the visions of a trance, That one might think, who came by chance Into the vale this happy night, He saw that City of Delight[291] In Fairy-land, whose streets and towers Are made of gems and light and flowers! Where is the loved Sultana? where, When mirth brings out the young and fair, Does she, the fairest, hide her brow In melancholy stillness now?

Alas!--how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love! Hearts that the world in vain had tried And sorrow but more closely tied; That stood the storm when waves were rough Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea When heaven was all tranquillity! A something light as air--a look, A word unkind or wrongly taken-- Oh! love that tempests never shook, A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.

And ruder words will soon rush in To spread the breach that words begin; And eyes forget the gentle ray They wore in courtship's smiling day; And voices lose the tone that shed A tenderness round all they said; Till fast declining one by one The sweetnesses of love are gone, And hearts so lately mingled seem Like broken clouds,--or like the stream That smiling left the mountain's brow As tho' its waters ne'er could sever, Yet ere it reach the plain below, Breaks into floods that part for ever.

Oh, you that have the charge of Love, Keep him in rosy bondage bound, As in the Fields of Bliss above He sits with flowerets fettered round;-- Loose not a tie that round him clings. Nor ever let him use his wings; For even an hour, a minute's flight Will rob the plumes of half their light. Like that celestial bird whose nest Is found beneath far Eastern skies, Whose wings tho' radiant when at rest Lose all their glory when he flies![292]

Some difference of this dangerous kind,-- By which, tho' light, the links that bind The fondest hearts may soon be riven; Some shadow in Love's summer heaven, Which, tho' a fleecy speck at first May yet in awful thunder burst;-- Such cloud it is that now hangs over The heart of the Imperial Lover, And far hath banisht from his sight His NOURMAHAL, his Haram's Light! Hence is it on this happy night When Pleasure thro' the fields and groves Has let loose all her world of loves And every heart has found its own He wanders joyless and alone And weary as that bird of Thrace Whose pinion knows no resting place.[293]

In vain the loveliest cheeks and eyes This Eden of the Earth supplies Come crowding round--the cheeks are pale, The eyes are dim:--tho' rich the spot With every flower this earth has got What is it to the nightingale If there his darling rose is not?[294] In vain the Valley's smiling throng Worship him as he moves along; He heeds them not--one smile of hers Is worth a world of worshippers. They but the Star's adorers are, She is the Heaven that lights the Star!

Hence is it too that NOURMAHAL, Amid the luxuries of this hour, Far from the joyous festival Sits in her own sequestered bower, With no one near to soothe or aid, But that inspired and wondrous maid, NAMOUNA, the Enchantress;--one O'er whom his race the golden sun For unremembered years has run, Yet never saw her blooming brow Younger or fairer than 'tis now. Nay, rather,--as the west wind's sigh Freshens the flower it passes by,-- Time's wing but seemed in stealing o'er To leave her lovelier than before. Yet on her smiles a sadness hung, And when as oft she spoke or sung Of other worlds there came a light From her dark eyes so strangely bright That all believed nor man nor earth Were conscious of NAMOUNA'S birth! All spells and talismans she knew, From the great Mantra,[295] which around The Air's sublimer Spirits drew, To the gold gems[296] of AFRIC, bound Upon the wandering Arab's arm To keep him from the Siltim's[297] harm. And she had pledged her powerful art,-- Pledged it with all the zeal and heart Of one who knew tho' high her sphere, What 'twas to lose a love so dear,-- To find some spell that should recall Her Selim's[298] smile to NOURMAHAL!

'Twas midnight--thro' the lattice wreathed With woodbine many a perfume breathed From plants that wake when others sleep. From timid jasmine buds that keep Their odor to themselves all day But when the sunlight dies away Let the delicious secret out To every breeze that roams about;-- When thus NAMOUNA:--"'Tis the hour "That scatters spells on herb and flower, "And garlands might be gathered now, "That twined around the sleeper's brow "Would make him dream of such delights, "Such miracles and dazzling sights "As Genii of the Sun behold "At evening from their tents of gold "Upon the horizon--where they play "Till twilight comes and ray by ray "Their sunny mansions melt away. "Now too a chaplet might be wreathed "Of buds o'er which the moon has breathed, "Which worn by her whose love has strayed "Might bring some Peri from the skies, "Some sprite, whose very soul is made "Of flowerets' breaths and lovers' sighs, "And who might tell"-- "For me, for me," Cried NOURMAHAL impatiently,-- "Oh! twine that wreath for me to-night." Then rapidly with foot as light As the young musk-roe's out she flew To cull each shining leaf that grew Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams For this enchanted Wreath of Dreams. Anemones and Seas of Gold,[299] And new-blown lilies of the river, And those sweet flowerets that unfold Their buds on CAMADEVA'S quiver;[300]-- The tuberose, with her silvery light, That in the Gardens of Malay Is called the Mistress of the Night,[301] So like a bride, scented and bright, She comes out when the sun's away:-- Amaranths such as crown the maids That wander thro' ZAMARA'S shades;[302]-- And the white moon-flower as it shows, On SERENDIB'S high crags to those Who near the isle at evening sail, Scenting her clove-trees in the gale; In short all flowerets and all plants, From the divine Amrita tree[303] That blesses heaven's habitants With fruits of immortality, Down to the basil tuft[304] that waves Its fragrant blossom over graves, And to the humble rosemary Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed To scent the desert[305]and the dead:-- All in that garden bloom and all Are gathered by young NOURMAHAL, Who heaps her baskets with the flowers And leaves till they can hold no more; Then to NAMOUNA flies and showers Upon her lap the shining store. With what delight the Enchantress views So many buds bathed with the dews And beams of that blest hour!--her glance Spoke something past all mortal pleasures, As in a kind of holy trance She hung above those fragrant treasures, Bending to drink their balmy airs, As if she mixt her soul with theirs. And 'twas indeed the perfume shed From flowers and scented flame that fed Her charmed life--for none had e'er Beheld her taste of mortal fare, Nor ever in aught earthly dip, But the morn's dew, her roseate lip. Filled with the cool, inspiring smell, The Enchantress now begins her spell, Thus singing as she winds and weaves In mystic form the glittering leaves:--

I know where the winged visions dwell
That around the night-bed play;
I know each herb and floweret's bell,
Where they hide their wings by day.
Then hasten we, maid,
To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The image of love that nightly flies
To visit the bashful maid,
Steals from the jasmine flower that sighs
Its soul like her in the shade.
The dream of a future, happier hour
That alights on misery's brow,
Springs out of the silvery almond-flower
That blooms on a leafless bough.[306]
Then hasten we, maid,
To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The visions that oft to worldly eyes
The glitter of mines unfold
Inhabit the mountain-herb[307] that dyes
The tooth of the fawn like gold.
The phantom shapes--oh touch not them--
That appal the murderer's sight,
Lurk in the fleshly mandrake's stem,
That shrieks when pluckt at night!
Then hasten we, maid,
To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The dream of the injured, patient mind
That smiles at the wrongs of men
Is found in the bruised and wounded rind
Of the cinnamon, sweetest then.
Then hasten we, maid,
To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

No sooner was the flowery crown Placed on her head than sleep came down, Gently as nights of summer fall, Upon the lids of NOURMAHAL;-- And suddenly a tuneful breeze As full of small, rich harmonies As ever wind that o'er the tents Of AZAB[308] blew was full of scents, Steals on her ear and floats and swells Like the first air of morning creeping Into those wreathy, Red-Sea shells Where Love himself of old lay sleeping;[309] And now a Spirit formed, 'twould seem, Of music and of light,--so fair, So brilliantly his features beam, And such a sound is in the air Of sweetness when he waves his wings,-- Hovers around her and thus sings:

From CHINDARA'S[310] warbling fount I come,
Called by that moonlight garland's spell;
From CHINDARA'S fount, my fairy home,
Wherein music, morn and night, I dwell.
Where lutes in the air are heard about
And voices are singing the whole day long,
And every sigh the heart breathes out
Is turned, as it leaves the lips, to song!
Hither I come
From my fairy home,
And if there's a magic in Music's strain
I swear by the breath
Of that moonlight wreath
Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again.

For mine is the lay that lightly floats And mine are the murmuring, dying notes That fall as soft as snow on the sea And melt in the heart as instantly:-- And the passionate strain that, deeply going, Refines the bosom it trembles thro' As the musk-wind over the water blowing Ruffles the wave but sweetens it too.

Mine is the charm whose mystic sway The Spirits of past Delight obey;-- Let but the tuneful talisman sound, And they come like Genii hovering round. And mine is the gentle song that bears From soul to soul the wishes of love, As a bird that wafts thro' genial airs The cinnamon-seed from grove to grove.[311]

'Tis I that mingle in one sweet measure The past, the present and future of pleasure; When Memory links the tone that is gone With the blissful tone that's still in the ear; And Hope from a heavenly note flies on To a note more heavenly still that is near.

The warrior's heart when touched by me,
Can as downy soft and as yielding be
As his own white plume that high amid death
Thro' the field has shone--yet moves with a breath!
And oh, how the eyes of Beauty glisten.
When Music has reached her inward soul,
Like the silent stars that wink and listen
While Heaven's eternal melodies roll.
So hither I come
From my fairy home,
And if there's a magic in Music's strain,
I swear by the breath
Of that moonlight wreath
Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again.

'Tis dawn--at least that earlier dawn Whose glimpses are again withdrawn,[312] As if the morn had waked, and then Shut close her lids of light again. And NOURMAHAL is up and trying The wonders of her lute whose strings-- Oh, bliss!--now murmur like the sighing From that ambrosial Spirit's wings. And then her voice--'tis more than human-- Never till now had it been given To lips of any mortal woman To utter notes so fresh from heaven; Sweet as the breath of angel sighs When angel sighs are most divine.-- "Oh! let it last till night," she cries, "And he is more than ever mine."

And hourly she renews the lay, So fearful lest its heavenly sweetness Should ere the evening fade away,-- For things so heavenly have such fleetness! But far from fading it but grows Richer, diviner as it flows; Till rapt she dwells on every string And pours again each sound along, Like echo, lost and languishing, In love with her own wondrous song.

That evening, (trusting that his soul Might be from haunting love released By mirth, by music and the bowl,) The Imperial SELIM held a feast In his magnificent Shalimar:[313]-- In whose Saloons, when the first star Of evening o'er the waters trembled, The Valley's loveliest all assembled; All the bright creatures that like dreams Glide thro' its foliage and drink beams Of beauty from its founts and streams;[314] And all those wandering minstrel-maids, Who leave--how _can_ they leave?--the shades Of that dear Valley and are found Singing in gardens of the South[315] Those songs that ne'er so sweetly sound As from a young Cashmerian's mouth.

There too the Haram's inmates smile;-- Maids from the West, with sun-bright hair, And from the Garden of the NILE, Delicate as the roses there;[316]-- Daughters of Love from CYPRUS rocks, With Paphian diamonds in their locks;[317]-- Light PERI forms such as there are On the gold Meads of CANDAHAR;[318] And they before whose sleepy eyes In their own bright Kathaian bowers Sparkle such rainbow butterflies That they might fancy the rich flowers That round them in the sun lay sighing Had been by magic all set flying.[319]

Every thing young, every thing fair From East and West is blushing there, Except--except--oh, NOURMAHAL! Thou loveliest, dearest of them all, The one whose smile shone out alone, Amidst a world the only one; Whose light among so many lights Was like that star on starry nights, The seaman singles from the sky, To steer his bark for ever by! Thou wert not there--so SELIM thought, And every thing seemed drear without thee; But, ah! thou wert, thou wert,--and brought Thy charm of song all fresh about thee, Mingling unnoticed with a band Of lutanists from many a land, And veiled by such a mask as shades The features of young Arab maids,[320]-- A mask that leaves but one eye free, To do its best in witchery,-- She roved with beating heart around And waited trembling for the minute When she might try if still the sound Of her loved lute had magic in it.

The board was spread with fruits and wine, With grapes of gold, like those that shine On CASBIN hills;[321]--pomegranates full Of melting sweetness, and the pears, And sunniest apples[322] that CAUBUL In all its thousand gardens[323] bears;-- Plantains, the golden and the green, MALAYA'S nectared mangusteen;[324] Prunes of BOCKHARA, and sweet nuts From the far groves of SAMARCAND, And BASRA dates, and apricots, Seed of the Sun,[325] from IRAN'S land;-- With rich conserve of Visna cherries,[326] Of orange flowers, and of those berries That, wild and fresh, the young gazelles Feed on in ERAC's rocky dells.[327] All these in richest vases smile, In baskets of pure santal-wood, And urns of porcelain from that isle[328] Sunk underneath the Indian flood, Whence oft the lucky diver brings Vases to grace the halls of kings. Wines too of every clime and hue Around their liquid lustre threw; Amber Rosolli,[329]--the bright dew From vineyards of the Green-Sea gushing;[330] And SHIRAZ wine that richly ran As if that jewel large and rare, The ruby for which KUBLAI-KHAN Offered a city's wealth,[331] was blushing Melted within the goblets there!

And amply SELIM quaffs of each, And seems resolved the flood shall reach His inward heart,--shedding around A genial deluge, as they run, That soon shall leave no spot undrowned For Love to rest his wings upon. He little knew how well the boy Can float upon a goblet's streams, Lighting them with his smile of joy;-- As bards have seen him in their dreams, Down the blue GANGES laughing glide Upon a rosy lotus wreath,[332] Catching new lustre from the tide That with his image shone beneath.

But what are cups without the aid
Of song to speed them as they flow?
And see--a lovely Georgian maid
With all the bloom, the freshened glow
Of her own country maidens' looks,
When warm they rise from Teflis' brooks;[333]
And with an eye whose restless ray
Full, floating, dark--oh, he, who knows
His heart is weak, of Heaven should pray
To guard him from such eyes as those!--
With a voluptuous wildness flings
Her snowy hand across the strings
Of a syrinda[334] and thus sings:--

Come hither, come hither--by night and by day,
We linger in pleasures that never are gone;
Like the waves of the summer as one dies away
Another as sweet and as shining comes on.
And the love that is o'er, in expiring gives birth
To a new one as warm, as unequalled in bliss;
And, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.[335]

Here maidens are sighing, and fragrant their sigh
As the flower of the Amra just oped by a bee;[336]
And precious their tears as that rain from the sky,[337]
Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea.
Oh! think what the kiss and the smile must be worth
When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss,
And own if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.

Here sparkles the nectar that hallowed by love
Could draw down those angels of old from their sphere,
Who for wine of this earth[338] left the fountains above,
And forgot heaven's stars for the eyes we have here.
And, blest with the odor our goblet gives forth,
What Spirit the sweets of his Eden would miss?
For, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.

The Georgian's song was scarcely mute, When the same measure, sound for sound, Was caught up by another lute And so divinely breathed around That all stood husht and wondering, And turned and lookt into the air, As if they thought to see the wing Of ISRAFIL[339] the Angel there;-- So powerfully on every soul That new, enchanted measure stole. While now a voice sweet as the note Of the charmed lute was heard to float Along its chords and so entwine Its sounds with theirs that none knew whether The voice or lute was most divine, So wondrously they went together:--

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,
When two that are linkt in one heavenly tie,
With heart never changing and brow never cold,
Love on thro' all ills and love on till they die!
One hour of a passion so sacred is worth
Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss;
And, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.

'Twas not the air, 'twas not the words, But that deep magic in the chords And in the lips that gave such power As music knew not till that hour. At once a hundred voices said, "It is the maskt Arabian maid!" While SELIM who had felt the strain Deepest of any and had lain Some minutes rapt as in a trance After the fairy sounds were o'er. Too inly touched for utterance, Now motioned with his hand for more:--

Fly to the desert, fly with me, Our Arab's tents are rude for thee; But oh! the choice what heart can doubt, Of tents with love or thrones without? Our rocks are rough, but smiling there The acacia waves her yellow hair, Lonely and sweet nor loved the less For flowering in a wilderness.

Our sands are bare, but down their slope The silvery-footed antelope As gracefully and gayly springs As o'er the marble courts of kings.

Then come--thy Arab maid will be The loved and lone acacia-tree. The antelope whose feet shall bless With their light sound thy loneliness.

Oh! there are looks and tones that dart An instant sunshine thro' the heart,-- As if the soul that minute caught Some treasure it thro' life had sought;

As if the very lips and eyes, Predestined to have all our sighs And never be forgot again, Sparkled and spoke before us then!

So came thy every glance and tone, When first on me they breathed and shone, New as if brought from other spheres Yet welcome as if loved for years.

Then fly with me,--if thou hast known No other flame nor falsely thrown A gem away, that thou hadst sworn Should ever in thy heart be worn.

Come if the love thou hast for me Is pure and fresh as mine for thee,-- Fresh as the fountain under ground, When first 'tis by the lapwing found.[340]

But if for me thou dost forsake Some other maid and rudely break Her worshipt image from its base, To give to me the ruined place;--

Then fare thee well--I'd rather make My bower upon some icy lake When thawing suns begin to shine Than trust to love so false as thine.

There was a pathos in this lay, That, even without enchantment's art, Would instantly have found its way Deep in to SELIM'S burning heart; But breathing as it did a tone To earthly lutes and lips unknown; With every chord fresh from the touch Of Music's Spirit,--'twas too much! Starting he dasht away the cup,-- Which all the time of this sweet air His hand had held, untasted, up, As if 'twere fixt by magic there-- And naming her, so long unnamed, So long unseen, wildly exclaimed, "Oh NOURMAHAL! oh NOURMAHAL! "Hadst thou but sung this witching strain, "I could forget--forgive thee all "And never leave those eyes again."

The mask is off--the charm is wrought-- And SELIM to his heart has caught, In blushes, more than ever bright, His NOURMAHAL, his Haram's Light! And well do vanisht frowns enhance The charm of every brightened glance; And dearer seems each dawning smile For having lost its light awhile: And happier now for all her sighs As on his arm her head reposes She whispers him, with laughing eyes, "Remember, love, the Feast of Roses!"

FADLADEEN, at the conclusion of this light rhapsody, took occasion to sum up his opinion of the young Cashmerian's poetry,--of which, he trusted, they had that evening heard the last. Having recapitulated the epithets, "frivolous"--"inharmonious"--"nonsensical," he proceeded to say that, viewed in the most favorable light it resembled one of those Maldivian boats, to which the Princess had alluded in the relation of her dream,-- a slight, gilded thing, sent adrift without rudder or ballast, and with nothing but vapid sweets and faded flowers on board. The profusion, indeed, of flowers and birds, which this poet had ready on all occasions, --not to mention dews, gems, etc.--was a most oppressive kind of opulence to his hearers; and had the unlucky effect of giving to his style all the glitter of the flower garden without its method, and all the flutter of the aviary without its song. In addition to this, he chose his subjects badly, and was always most inspired by the worst parts of them. The charms of paganism, the merits of rebellion,--these were the themes honored with his particular enthusiasm; and, in the poem just recited, one of his most palatable passages was in praise of that beverage of the Unfaithful, wine;--"being, perhaps," said he, relaxing into a smile, as conscious of his own character in the Haram on this point, "one of those bards, whose fancy owes all its illumination to the grape, like that painted porcelain,[341] so curious and so rare, whose images are only visible when liquor is poured into it." Upon the whole, it was his opinion, from the specimens which they had heard, and which, he begged to say, were the most tiresome part of the journey, that--whatever other merits this well-dressed young gentleman might possess--poetry was by no means his proper avocation; "and indeed," concluded the critic, "from his fondness for flowers and for birds, I would venture to suggest that a florist or a bird-catcher is a much more suitable calling for him than a poet."

They had now begun to ascend those barren mountains, which separate Cashmere from the rest of India; and, as the heats were intolerable, and the time of their encampments limited to the few hours necessary for refreshment and repose, there was an end to all their delightful evenings, and LALLA ROOKH saw no more of FERAMORZ. She now felt that her short dream of happiness was over, and that she had nothing but the recollection of its few blissful hours, like the one draught of sweet water that serves the camel across the wilderness, to be her heart's refreshment during the dreary waste of life that was before her. The blight that had fallen upon her spirits soon found its way to her cheek, and her ladies saw with regret--though not without some suspicion of the cause--that the beauty of their mistress, of which they were almost as proud as of their own, was fast vanishing away at the very moment of all when she had most need of it. What must the King of Bucharia feel, when, instead of the lively and beautiful LALLA ROOKH, whom the poets of Delhi had described as more perfect than the divinest images in the house of AZOR,[342] he should receive a pale and inanimate victim, upon whose cheek neither health nor pleasure bloomed, and from whose eyes Love had fled,--to hide himself in her heart?

If any thing could have charmed away the melancholy of her spirits, it would have been the fresh airs and enchanting scenery of that Valley, which the Persians so justly called the Unequalled.[343] But neither the coolness of its atmosphere, so luxurious after toiling up those bare and burning mountains,--neither the splendor of the minarets and pagodas, that shone put from the depth of its woods, nor the grottoes, hermitages, and miraculous fountains,[344] which make every spot of that region holy ground,--neither the countless waterfalls, that rush into the Valley from all those high and romantic mountains that encircle it, nor the fair city on the Lake, whose houses, roofed with flowers,[345] appeared at a distance like one vast and variegated parterre;--not all these wonders and glories of the most lovely country under the sun could steal her heart for a minute from those sad thoughts which but darkened and grew bitterer every step she advanced.

The gay pomps and processions that met her upon her entrance into the Valley, and the magnificence with which the roads all along were decorated, did honor to the taste and gallantry of the young King. It was night when they approached the city, and, for the last two miles, they had passed under arches, thrown from hedge to hedge, festooned with only those rarest roses from which the Attar Gul, more precious than gold, is distilled, and illuminated in rich and fanciful forms with lanterns of the triple-colored tortoise-shell of Pegu.[346] Sometimes, from a dark wood by the side of the road, a display of fireworks would break out, so sudden and so brilliant, that a Brahmin might fancy he beheld that grove, in whose purple shade the God of Battles was born, bursting into a flame at the moment of his birth;--while, at other times, a quick and playful irradiation continued to brighten all the fields and gardens by which they passed, forming a line of dancing lights along the horizon; like the meteors of the north as they are seen by those hunters who pursue the white and blue foxes on the confines of the Icy Sea.

These arches and fireworks delighted the Ladies of the Princess exceedingly; and, with their usual good logic, they deduced from his taste for illuminations, that the King of Bucharia would make the most exemplary husband imaginable. Nor, indeed, could LALLA ROOKH herself help feeling the kindness and splendor with which the young bridegroom welcomed her;--but she also felt how painful is the gratitude which kindness from those we cannot love excites; and that their best blandishments come over the heart with all that chilling and deadly sweetness which we can fancy in the cold, odoriferous wind[347] that is to blow over this earth in the last days.

The marriage was fixed for the morning after her arrival, when she was, for the first time, to be presented to the monarch in that Imperial Palace beyond the lake, called the Shalimar. Though never before had a night of more wakeful and anxious thought been passed in the Happy Valley, yet, when she rose in the morning, and her Ladies came around her, to assist in the adjustment of the bridal ornaments, they thought they had never seen her look half so beautiful. What she had lost of the bloom and radiancy of her charms was more than made up by that intellectual expression, that soul beaming forth from the eyes, which is worth all the rest of loveliness. When they had tinged her fingers with the Henna leaf, and placed upon her brow a small coronet of jewels, of the shape worn by the ancient Queens of Bucharia, they flung over her head the rose-colored bridal veil, and she proceeded to the barge that was to convey her across the lake;--first kissing, with a mournful look, the little amulet of cornelian, which her father at parting had hung about her neck.

The morning was as fresh and fair as the maid on whose nuptials it rose, and the shining lake, all covered with boats, the minstrels playing upon the shores of the islands, and the crowded summer-houses on the green hills around, with shawls and banners waving from their roofs, presented such a picture of animated rejoicing, as only she, who was the object of it all, did not feel with transport. To LALLA ROOKH alone it was a melancholy pageant; nor could she have even borne to look upon the scene, were it not for a hope that among the crowds around, she might once more perhaps catch a glimpse of FERAMORZ. So much was her imagination haunted by this thought that there was scarcely an islet or boat she passed on the way at which her heart did not flutter with the momentary fancy that he was there. Happy, in her eyes, the humblest slave upon whom the light of his dear looks fell!--In the barge immediately after the Princess sat FADLADEEN, with his silken curtains thrown widely apart, that all might have the benefit of his august presence, and with his head full of the speech he was to deliver to the King, "concerning FERAMORZ and literature and the Chabuk as connected therewith."

They now had entered the canal which leads from the Lake to the splendid domes and saloons of the Shalimar and went gliding on through the gardens that ascended from each bank, full of flowering shrubs that made the air all perfume; while from the middle of the canal rose jets of water, smooth and unbroken, to such a dazzling height that they stood like tall pillars of diamond in the sunshine. After sailing under the arches of various saloons they at length arrived at the last and most magnificent, where the monarch awaited the coming of his bride; and such was the agitation of her heart and frame that it was with difficulty she could walk up the marble steps which were covered with cloth of gold for her ascent from the barge. At the end of the hall stood two thrones, as precious as the Cerulean Throne of Koolburga,[348] on one of which sat ALIRIS, the youthful King of Bucharia, and on the other was in a few minutes to be placed the most beautiful Princess in the world. Immediately upon the entrance of LALLA ROOKH into the saloon the monarch descended from his throne to meet her; but scarcely had he time to take her hand in his when she screamed with surprise and fainted at his feet. It was FERAMORZ, himself, who stood before her! FERAMORZ, was, himself, the Sovereign of Bucharia, who in this disguise had accompanied his young bride from Delhi, and having won her love as an humble minstrel now amply deserved to enjoy it as a King.

The consternation of FADLADEEN at this discovery was, for the moment, almost pitiable. But change of opinion is a resource too convenient in courts for this experienced courtier not to have learned to avail himself of it. His criticisms were all, of course, recanted instantly: he was seized with an admiration of the King's verses, as unbounded as, he begged him to believe, it was disinterested; and the following week saw him in possession of an additional place, swearing by all the Saints of Islam that never had there existed so great a poet as the Monarch ALIRIS, and moreover ready to prescribe his favorite regimen of the Chabuk for every man, woman and child that dared to think otherwise.

Of the happiness of the King and Queen of Bucharia, after such a beginning, there can be but little doubt; and among the lesser symptoms it is recorded of LALLA ROOKH that to the day of her death in memory of their delightful journey she never called the King by any other name than FERAMORZ.

[1] These particulars of the visit of the King of Bucharia to Aurungzebe are found in _Dow's "History of Hindostan_," vol. iii. p. 392.

[2] Tulip cheek.

[3] The mistress of Mejnoun, upon whose story so many Romances in all the languages of the East are founded.

[4] For the loves of this celebrated beauty with Khosrou and with Ferhad, see _D'Herbelot, Gibbon, Oriental Collections_, etc.

[5] "The history of the loves of Dewildé and Chizer, the son of the Emperor Alla, is written in an elegant poem, by the noble Chusero."- _Ferishta_.

[6] Gul Reazee.

[7] "One mark of honor or knighthood bestowed by the Emperor is the permission to wear a small kettle-drum at the bows of their saddles, which at first was invented for the training of hawks, and to call them to the lure, and is worn in the field by all sportsmen to that end."--_Fryer's_ Travels. "Those on whom the King has conferred the privilege must wear an ornament of jewels on the right side of the turban, surmounted by a high plume of the feathers of a kind of egret. This bird is found only in Cashmere, and the feathers are carefully collected for the King, who bestows them on his nobles."--_Elphinstone's_ Account of Cabul.

[8] "Khedar Khan, the Khakan, or King of Turquestan beyond the Gibon (at the end of the eleventh century), whenever he appeared abroad was preceded by seven hundred horsemen with silver battle-axes, and was followed by an equal number bearing maces of gold. He was a great patron of poetry, and it was he who used to preside at public exercises of genius, with four basins of gold and silver by him to distribute among the poets who excelled."--_Richardson's_ Dissertation prefixed to his Dictionary.

[9] "The kubdeh, a large golden knob, generally in the shape of a pine- apple, on the top of the canopy over the litter or palanquin."--_Scott's_ Notes on the Bahardanush.

[10] In the Poem of Zohair, in the Moallakat, there is the following lively description of "a company of maidens seated on camels." "They are mounted in carriages covered with costly awnings, and with rose-colored veils, the linings of which have the hue of crimson Andem-wood. "When they ascend from the bosom of the vale, they sit forward on the saddlecloth, with every mark of a voluptuous gayety. "Now, When they have reached the brink of yon blue-gushing rivulet, they fix the poles of their tents like the Arab with a settled mansion."

[11] See _Bernier's_ description of the attendants on Rauchanara Begum, in her progress to Cashmere.

[12] This hypocritical Emperor would have made a worthy associate of certain Holy Leagues.--"He held the cloak of religion [says Dow] between his actions and the vulgar; and impiously thanked the Divinity for a success which he owed to his own wickedness. When he was murdering and persecuting his brothers and their families, he was building a magnificent mosque at Delhi, as an offering to God for his assistance to him in the civil wars. He acted as high priest at the consecration of this temple; and made a practice of attending divine service there, in the humble dress of a Fakeer. But when he lifted one hand to the Divinity, he, with the other, signed warrants for the assassination of his relations."--"_History of Hindostan_,". vol. iii. p.335. See also the curious letter of Aurungzebe, given in the _Oriental Collections_, vol. i. p.320.

[13] "The idol at Jaghernat has two fine diamonds for eyes. No goldsmith is suffered to enter the Pagoda, one having stole one of these eyes, being locked up all night with the Idol."--_Tavernier_.

[14] See a description of these royal Gardens in "An Account of the present State of Delhi, by Lieut. W. Franklin."--_Asiat. Research_, vol. iv. p. 417.

[15] "In the neighborhood is Notte Gill, or the Lake of Pearl, which receives this name from its pellucid water."--_Pennant's_ "Hindostan." "Nasir Jung encamped in the vicinity of the Lake of Tonoor, amused himself with sailing on that clear and beautiful water, and gave it the fanciful name of Motee Talah, 'the Lake of Pearls,' which it still retains."-- _Wilks's_ "South of India."

[16] Sir Thomas Roe, Ambassador from James I. to Jehanguire.

[17] "The romance Wemakweazra, written in Persian verse, which contains the loves of Wamak and Ezra, two celebrated lovers who lived before the time of Mahomet."--_Note on the Oriental Tales_.

[18] Their amour is recounted in the Shah-Namêh of Ferdousi; and there is much beauty in the passage which describes the slaves of Rodahver sitting on the bank of the river and throwing flowers into the stream, in order to draw the attention of the young Hero who is encamped on the opposite side.--See _Champion's_ translation.

[19] Rustam is the Hercules of the Persians. For the particulars of his victory over the Sepeed Deeve, or White Demon, see _Oriental Collections_, vol. ii. p. 45.--Near the city of Shiraz is an immense quadrangular monument, in commemoration of this combat, called the Kelaat-i-Deev Sepeed, or castle of the White Giant, which Father Angelo, in his "_Gazophilacium Persicum_," p.127, declares to have been the most memorable monument of antiquity which he had seen in Persia.--See _Ouseley's_ "Persian Miscellanies."

[20] "The women of the Idol, or dancing girls of the Pagoda, have little golden bells, fastened to their feet, the soft harmonious tinkling of which vibrates in unison with the exquisite melody of their voices."-- _Maurice's_ "Indian Antiquities."

"The Arabian courtesans, like the Indian women, have little golden bells fastened round their legs, neck, and elbows, to the sound of which they dance before the King. The Arabian princesses wear golden rings on their fingers, to which little bells are suspended, as well as in the flowing tresses of their hair, that their superior rank may be known and they themselves receive in passing the homage due to them."--See _Calmet's_ Dictionary, art. "Bells."

[21] The Indian Apollo. "He and the three Ramas are described as youths of perfect beauty, and the princesses of Hindustan were all passionately in love with Chrishna, who continues to this hour the darling God of the Indan women."--_Sir W. Jones_, on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and India.

[22] See _Turner's_ Embassy for a description of this animal, "the most beautiful among the whole tribe of goats." The material for the shawls (which is carried to Cashmere) is found next the skin.

[23] For the real history of this Impostor, whose original name was Hakem ben Haschem, and who was called Mocanna from the veil of silver gauze (or, as others say, golden) which he always wore, see _D'Herbelot_.

[24] Khorassan signifies, in the old Persian language, Province or Region of the Sun.--_Sir W. Jones_.

[25] "The fruits of Meru are finer than those of any other place: and one cannot see in any other city such palaces with groves, and streams, and gardens."--_Ebn Haukal's_ Geography.

[26] One of the royal cities of Khorassan.

[27] Moses.

[28] Black was the color adopted by the Caliphs of the House of Abbas, in their garments, turbans, and standards.

[29] "Our dark javelins, exquisitely wrought of Khathaian reeds, slender and delicate."--_Poem of Amru_.

[30] Pichula, used anciently for arrows by the Persians.

[31] The Persians call this plant Gaz. The celebrated shaft of Isfendiar, one of their ancient heroes, was made of it.--"Nothing can be more beautiful than the appearance of this plant in flower during the rains on the banks of rivers, where it is usually interwoven with a lovely twining asclepias."--_Sir W. Jones_..

[32] The oriental plane. "The chenar is a delightful tree; its bole is of a fine white and smooth bark; and its foliage, which grows in a tuft at the summit, is of a bright green."--_Morier's Travels_..

[33] The burning fountains of Brahma near Chittogong, esteemed as holy.--_Turner_.

[34] China.

[35] "The name of tulip is said to be of Turkish extraction, and given to the flower on account of its resembling a turban."--_Beckmann_'s History of Inventions.

[36] "The inhabitants of Bucharia wear a round cloth bonnet, shaped much after the Polish fashion, having a large fur border. They tie their kaftans about the middle with a girdle of a kind of silk crape, several times round the body."--_Account of Independent Tartary, in Pinkerton's Collection_.

[37] In the war of the Caliph Mahadi against the Empress Irene, for an account of which _vide Gibbon_, vol. x.

[38] When Soliman travelled, the eastern writers say, "He had a carpet of green silk on which his throne was placed, being of a prodigious length and breadth, and sufficient for all his forces to stand upon, the men placing themselves on his right hand, and the spirits on his left; and that when all were in order, the wind, at his command, took up the carpet, and transported it, with all that were upon it, wherever he pleased; the army of birds at the same time flying over their heads, and forming a kind of canopy to shade them from the sun."--Sale's Koran, vol. ii. p. 214, note.

[39] The transmigration of souls was one of his doctrines.--_Vide D'Herbelot_..

[40] "And when we said unto the angels. Worship Adam, they all worshipped him except Eblis (Lucifer), who refused." _The. Koran_, chap. ii.

[41] Moses.

[42] Jesus.

[43] The Amu, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark Mountains, and running nearly from east to west, splits into two branches; one of which falls into the Caspian Sea, and the other into Aral Nahr, or the Lake of Eagles.

[44] The nightingale.

[45] The cities of Com (or Koom) and Cashan are full of mosques, mausoleums and sepulchres of the descendants of Ali, the Saints of Persia --_Chardin_..

[46] An island in the Persian Gulf, celebrated for its white wine.

[47] The miraculous well at Mecca: so called, says Sale, from the murmuring of its waters.

[48] The god Hannaman.--"Apes are in many parts of India highly venerated, out of respect to the God Hannaman, a deity partaking of the form of that race."--_Pennant's_ Hindoostan. See a curious account in _Stephen's Persia_, of a solemn embassy from some part of the Indies to Goa when the Portuguese were there, offering vast treasures for the recovery of a monkey's tooth, which they held in great veneration, and which had been taken away upon the conquest of the kingdom of Jafanapatan.

[49] A kind of lantern formerly used by robbers, called the Hand of Glory, the candle for which was made of the fat of a dead malefactor. This, however, was rather a western than an eastern superstition.

[50] The material of which images of Gaudma (the Birman Deity) are made, is held sacred. "Birmans may not purchase the marble in mass, but are suffered, and indeed encouraged, to buy figures of the Deity ready made." --_Sytnes's_ "Ava," vol. ii. p. 876.

[51] "It is commonly said in Persia, that if a man breathe in the hot south wind, which in June or July passes over that flower (the Kerzereh), it will kill him."--_Thevenot_.

[52] The humming bird is said to run this risk for the purpose of picking the crocodile's teeth. The same circumstance is related of the lapwing, as a fact to which he was witness, by _Paul Lucas, "Voyage fait en_ 1714."

The ancient story concerning the Trochilus, or humming-bird, entering with impunity into the mouth of the crocodile, is firmly believed at Java.--_Barrow's "Cochin-China_."

[53] "The feast of Lanterns celebrated at Yamtcheou with more magnificence than anywhere else! and the report goes that the illuminations there are so splendid, that an Emperor once, not daring openly to leave his Court to go thither, committed himself with the Queen and several Princesses of his family into the hands of a magician, who promised to transport them thither in a trice. He made them in the night to ascend magnificent thrones that were borne up by swans, which in a moment arrived at Yamtcheou. The Emperor saw at his leisure all the solemnity, being carried upon a cloud that hovered over the city and descended by degrees; and came back again with the same speed and equipage, nobody at court perceiving his absence."--_The Present State of China_," p. 156.