VIII

That day on which she pensive stray'd
Amidst the Grove of Palms — that day
How sweetly bloom'd the Arab maid,
Girt by her train in fair array!
Her moist red lips, her teeth of pearl,
Her hair in many a witching curl;
Haply, on that devoted day,
A gallant youth, with followers gay,
In splendid fashion pass'd that way;
Who saw that lamp of beauty gleaming.
Her luscious eye with softness beaming;
And in his bosom rose the fire
Of still-increasing fond desire.
Resolved at once her hand to claim
(Ibn Salim his honor'd name),
He from her parents seeks success,
Offering the nuptial-knot to tie;
And, to promote that happiness,
Scatters his gold abundantly,
As if it were but common earth,
Or sand, or water, little worth —
But he was of illustrious birth.
The parents scarce believed the word,
The marriage-union, thus preferred:
And, though consenting, still they pray'd
The nuptial morn might be delay'd:
In her no ripen'd bloom was seen,
The sweet pomegranate still was green;
But a future day should surely deck
With a bridal yoke her spotless neck;
"We will then surrender the maiden to thee.
The maiden, till now, unaffianced and free!
The promise soothes his eager heart,
And he and his followers, pleased, depart,