Recognition

Ne’er had it entered Zulaikha’s heart
That one stage kept herself and her darling apart.
But a secret impulse at work in her breast
Billed her with longing and wild unrest.
She strove to calm it, and knew not whence
Came the hidden yearning that moved each sense.
She roamed in the meadow for change and relief,
Bor the house seemed a dungeon of care and grief.
But still each day was dreary and slow,
And she gnashed her teeth in her depth of woe.
She gathered all luxuries round her in vain,
Bor each moment that passed but increased her pain.
Her fountain of tears was outwept, and her mind
To change once more and to home inclined.
Again in her litter the lady lay
And hastened back on her homeward way.
On her journey homeward Zulaikha sped,
And her road by the gate of the palace led.
And she asked, as‘the press of people she viewed,
If Doomsday had gathered the multitude.
One made answer and said to her : “ Nay,
A youth from Canaan is here to-day :
No slave is he, but a splendid sun,
In the kingdom of beauty the brightest one.”
She raised the curtain, her glances fell
On the form and features she knew so well.
A long sigh burst from her heart as she lay
Back in her litter, her senses astray.
Home with their lady the servants pressed ;
In her secret chamber they laid her to rest.
Again the light in her sad eyes burned,
And her senses, lost in her swoon, returned.
“ Say, light of my soul,” cried the nurse, “ say why
From thy troubled breast came that bitter sigh.
What reft thy senses away ? What woes
Made thy sweet lips with a cry unclose ? ”
“ Dear mother,” she said, “ what reply can I make ?
At each word I say must my bosom ache.
Thou sawest that youth in the midst of the press,
While the people were praising his loveliness.
It is he, my beloved, so long adored,
My life and my treasure, my love and my lord,
Whose face in my vision I saw when my soul,
Lured by his splendour, burst forth from control ;
For whom body and soul burnt with feverous flame,
For whom tears of blood from these fountains came ;
Whose dear love led me to this far land
When I came to this city to yield him my hand.
By him from my home and my friends was I tom,
And left amid strangers unfriended, forlorn.
The pangs thou hast witnessed, the long weary sighs,
The woes that have banished all rest from mine eyes,
For him all these sorrows were suffered, for him
My heart was heavy, mine eyes were dim.
I know not what grief has assailed me to-day,
But my woes in my breast like a mountain weigh.
What court as a king does my fair moon grace ?
What chamber is blest with the light of his face ?
Whose eye takes the splendour his glances shed ?
And whose house does he turn to a sweet rosebed ?
Who wins from those fresh lips a life-giving kiss
And beneath the fair cypress reposes in bliss ?
Whose fingers the braid of his tresses entwine ?
Who joys in the shade of that palm to recline ?
Who would give all her treasure to purchase the prize
And make dust for his feet of the tint of her eyes ? ”
When the loving nurse saw whence the fierce passion came,
She wept like a candle that melts with the flame.
She said : “ Lamp of beauty, hide, hide this fire ;
Conceal thy longing and sweet desire.
Long hast thou suffered in patience thy woe :
This day, too, endeavour like patience to show.
Eor hope from thy patience at length may arise,
And thy sun may burst forth from the cloud where he lies.”