 | Safie |  |
Oh! Peace had long rested in Assad's haram,
Till the clang of arms, the war's alarum,
Had scared the meek-eyed damsel from
Her fair abode, her smiling home.
Happiest Assad! then wast thou sharing
The smiles of a maiden fair and free,
As e'er whisper'd lover's melody;—
Ever fulfilling, and ever declaring.
She kiss'd thee hence when the steed was mounted,
For the rural pleasures of hunt and chase;
She listen'd to hear the feats recounted,
With words of praise and smiling face:
She swept the lute with an airy lightness
That hardly seem'd to touch the chords;
She sang such sweet, such witching words,—
And her eyes flash'd such expressive brightness;—
That a Houri could never in hours of pleasure,
Breathe a softer tone or a lovelier measure;—
Nor could brighter glances ever be given,
To welcome the souls of the dead to Heaven!—
She was as cheering and as bright
As the first sun-beam to the sight,
Which glances on the mountain high,
But scorning earth, reseeks the sky.
I may not—I cannot picture her form!—
'Twas all that was graceful,—'twas all that was fair;
'Twas like gleam of sunshine amid a storm,—
'Twas a ray of hope amid despair.
I cannot—I dare not describe her face!
That might soothe with a smile the heart when breaking;—
Expression and love the eye might trace,
Which in moments of silence were ever speaking.
Her caftan
was of gold and green,
The richest in the Bizestien ,
Which, clasp'd by diamond on her neck,
Fell o'er the form it loved to deck;—
Her talpack
rested on a brow
Far whiter than the flakes of snow,
By winter winds unruly driven
From earth, uninjured, back to heav'n.
Ah! who could gaze without a sigh;—
The monk that pines and prays in cell
Would view her with enraptured eye,
And cry Guzelle! Guzelle!
The noblest monarch on the globe
Might love to kiss her sacred robe .
Till the clang of arms, the war's alarum,
Had scared the meek-eyed damsel from
Her fair abode, her smiling home.
Happiest Assad! then wast thou sharing
The smiles of a maiden fair and free,
As e'er whisper'd lover's melody;—
Ever fulfilling, and ever declaring.
She kiss'd thee hence when the steed was mounted,
For the rural pleasures of hunt and chase;
12
With words of praise and smiling face:
She swept the lute with an airy lightness
That hardly seem'd to touch the chords;
She sang such sweet, such witching words,—
And her eyes flash'd such expressive brightness;—
That a Houri could never in hours of pleasure,
Breathe a softer tone or a lovelier measure;—
Nor could brighter glances ever be given,
To welcome the souls of the dead to Heaven!—
She was as cheering and as bright
As the first sun-beam to the sight,
Which glances on the mountain high,
But scorning earth, reseeks the sky.
I may not—I cannot picture her form!—
'Twas all that was graceful,—'twas all that was fair;
'Twas like gleam of sunshine amid a storm,—
'Twas a ray of hope amid despair.
13
That might soothe with a smile the heart when breaking;—
Expression and love the eye might trace,
Which in moments of silence were ever speaking.
Her caftan
The Caftan is a robe exactly fitted to the shape, and reaches to the feet: it has long, strait, falling sleeves. A girdle is worn over it, of about three inches broad, which all that can afford it have entirely of diamonds and precious stones: those who will not be at this expence, have it of exquisite embroidery on satin; but it must be fastened before with a clasp of diamonds.
The richest in the Bizestien ,
Which, clasp'd by diamond on her neck,
Fell o'er the form it loved to deck;—
Her talpack
The talpack is a cap, which in winter is made of velvet, embroidered with pearls or diamonds; and in summer of a light shining silver stuff. It is fixed on one side of the head, hanging a little way down with a gold tassel, and bound on either with a circle of diamonds, or a rich embroidered handkerchief.
Far whiter than the flakes of snow,
By winter winds unruly driven
From earth, uninjured, back to heav'n.
Ah! who could gaze without a sigh;—
The monk that pines and prays in cell
Would view her with enraptured eye,
And cry Guzelle! Guzelle!
14
Might love to kiss her sacred robe .
| Safie | |