approaching when she must see him no longer,ot, what was still worse, behold him with eyes whose every look belonged to another; and there was a melancholy preciousness in these last moments, which made her heart cling to them as it would to life. During the latter part of the jourrey, indeed, she had sunk into a deep sadness, from which nothing but the presence of the young instrel could awake her. Like those lamps in tombs, which only light up when the air is admited, it was only at his approach that her eyes became smiling and animated. But here, in this dear valley, every moment appeared an age of pleasure; she saw him all day, and was, therefore, all day happy, resembling, she often thought, that people of Zinge', who attribute the unfading cheerfulness they enjoy to one genial star that rises nightly over their heads.2

The whole party, indeed, seemed in their livebest mood during the few days they passed in this delightful solitude. The young attendants of the Princess, who were here allowed a much freer range than they could safely be indulged with in a less sequestered place, ran wild among the gardens and bounded through the meadows lightly as Young roes over the aromatic plains of Tibet. While FADLADEEN, in addition to the spiritual comfort derived by him from a pilgrimage to the tomb of the saint from whom the valley is named, Lad also opportunities of indulging, in a small way, His taste for victims, by putting to death some hundreds of those unfortunate little lizards, which all pious Mussulmans make it a point to kill; — taking for granted, that the manner in which the creature hangs its head is meant as a mimicry of the attitude in which the Faithful say their prayers.

About two miles from Hussun Abdaul were those Royal Gardens', which had grown beautifal under the care of so many lovely eyes, and

"The inhabitants of this country (Zinge) are never afflicted with sadness or melancholy; on this subject the Sheikh Abu-alK-Azhari has the following distich:

Who is the man without care or sorrow, (tell) that I may rub my hand to him.

Behold the Zingians, without care or sorrow, frolicksome with tipiness and mirth.'

The philosophers have discovered that the cause of this cheerfness proceeds from the influence of the star Soheil, or Canopus, ich rises over them every night."-Extract from a Geographical Persian Manuscript called Heft Aklim, or the Seven Climates, treated by W. Ouseicy, Esq.

The star Soleil, or Canopus.

The lizard Stellio. The Arabs call it Hardun. The Turks bit for they imagine that by declining the head it mimics them when they say their prayers."-Hasselquist.

For these particulars respecting Hussun Abdaul I am indebted to the very interesting Introduction of Mr. Elphinstone's work uxe Cautul.

5 As you enter at that Bazar, without the gate of Damascus, see the Green Mosque, so called because it hath a steeple faced with green glazed bricks, which render it very resplendent; it is cowed at top with a pavilion of the same stuff. The Turks say

were beautiful still, though those eyes could see them no longer. This place, with its flowers and its holy silence, interrupted only by the dipping of the wings of birds in its marble basins filled with the pure water of those hills, was to LALLA ROOKH all that her heart could fancy of fragrance, coolness, and almost heavenly tranquillity. As the Prophet said of Damascus, "it was too delicious3; -and here, in listening to the sweet voice of FERAMORZ, or reading in his eyes what yet he never dared to tell her, the most exquisite moments of her whole life were passed. One evening, when they had been talking of the Sultana Nourmahal, the Light of the Haram, who had so often wandered among these flowers, and fed with her own hands, in those marble basins, the small shining fishes of which she was so fond', the youth, in order to delay the moment of separation, proposed to recite a short story, or rather rhapsody, of which this adored Sultana was the heroine. It related, he said, to the reconcilement of a sort of lovers' quarrel which took place between her and the Emperor during a Feast of Roses at Cashmere; and would remind the Princess of that difference between Haroun-al-Raschid and his fair mistress Marida, which was so happily made up by the soft strains of the musician, Moussali. As the story was chiefly to be told in song, and FERAMORZ had unluckily forgotten his own lute in the valley, he borrowed the vina of LALLA ROOKH'S little Persian slave, and thus began:

WHO has not heard of the Vale of CASHMERE,
With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave,'
Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear
As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their
wave?

this mosque was made in that place, because Mahomet being come so far, would not enter the town, saying it was too delicious."Thevenot. This reminds one of the following pretty passage in Isaac Walton:-"When I sat last on this primrose bank, and looked down these meadows, I thought of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city of Florence, that they were too pleasant to be looked on, but only on holidays.""

6 Nourmahal signifies Light of the Haram. She was afterwards called Nourjehan, or the Light of the World.

7 See note 5, p. 58.

8" Haroun Al Raschid, cinquième Khalife des Abassides, s'étant un jour brouillé avec une de ses maîtresses nommée Maridah, qu'il aimoit cependant jusqu'à l'excès, et cette mésintelligence ayant déjà durée quelque tems, commença à s'ennuyer. Giafar Barmaki, son favori, qui s'en appercût, commanda à Abbas ben Ahnaf, excellent poěte de ce tems là, de composer quelques vers sur le sujet de cette brouillerie. Ce poste exécuta l'ordre de Giafar, qui fit chanter ces vers par Moussali en présence du Khalife, et ce prince fut tellement touché de la tendresse des vers du pošte, et de la douceur de la voix du musicien, qu'il alla aussi-tôt trouver Maridah, et fit sa paix avec elle."- D'Herbelot.

9" The rose of Kashmire for its brilliancy and delicacy of odour has long been proverbial in the East."-Forster.

Oh! to see it at sunset,-when warm o'er the Lake Its splendour at parting a summer eve throws, Like a bride, full of blushes, when ling'ring to take A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes!When the shrines through the foliage are gleaming half shown,

And each hallows the hour by some rites of its own. Here the music of pray'r 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.'

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, call'd 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, woos like a lover
The young aspen-trees, till they tremble all over.
When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes,
And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurl'd,
Shines in through the mountainous portal 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;*
The joyous Time, when pleasures pour
Profusely round, and, in their shower,
Hearts open, like the Season's Rose,

The Flow'ret of a hundred leaves,
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,

1 "Tied round her waist the zone of bells, that sounded with ravishing melody."-Song of Jayadeva.

2" The little isles in the Lake of Cachemire are set with arbours and large-leaved aspen-trees, slender and tall."- Bernier.

3 The Tuckt Suliman, the name bestowed by the Mahommetans on this hill, forms one side of a grand portal to the Lake."Forster.

4 The Feast of Roses continues the whole time of their remaining in bloom."-See Pietro de la Valle.

When Day had hid his sultry flame

Behind the palms of BARAMOULE, When maids began to lift their heads, Refresh'd from their embroider'd beds, Where they had slept the sun away, And wak'd to moonlight and to play. All were abroad-the busiest hive On BELA'S' hills is less alive, When saffron-beds are full in flow'r, Than look'd the Valley in that hour. A thousand restless torches play'd Through 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 biaze so clear, That you could see, in wand'ring 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 exclaim'd 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 bless'd them there; The roses ne'er shone half so bright,

Nor they themselves look'd half so fair.

And what a wilderness of flow'rs!
It seem'd as though from all the bow'rs
And fairest fields of all the year,
The mingled spoil were scatter'd 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 fall'n upon it from the sky!
And then the sounds of joy,-the beat
Of tabors and of dancing feet;-

The minaret-crier's chaunt of glee

Sung from his lighted gallery,

And answer'd by a ziraleet

From neighbouring Haram, wild and sweet;. The merry laughter, echoing

From gardens, where the silken swing

Jehan-Guire, where there is an account of the beds of saffronflowers about Cashmere.

"It is the custom among the women to employ the Maazeen to chaunt from the gallery of the nearest minaret, which on that oecasion is illuminated, and the women assembled at the house respond at intervals with a ziralect or joyous chorus."-Russel.

9"The swing is a favourite pastime in the East, as promoting a circulation of air, extremely refreshing in those sultry climates.". Richardson.

"The swings are adorned with festoons. This pastime is accompanied with music of voices and of instruments, hired by the masters of the swings."-Thevenot.

Wafts some delighted girl above
The top leaves of the orange-grove;
Or, from those infant groups at play
Among the tents that line the way,
Flinging, unaw'd by slave or mother,
Handfuls of roses at each other.-

Then, the sounds from the Lake, -the low whisp'ring in boats,

As they shoot through the moonlight ;-the dipping of oars,

And the wild, airy warbling that ev'rywhere floats, Through the groves, round the islands, as if all the shores,

Like those of KATHAY, utter'd music, and gave
As answer in song to the kiss of each wave."
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 late and a sigh in this magical hour.
Oh! best of delights as it ev'rywhere is
To be near the lov'd One,-what a rapture is his
Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may
glide
[side!
O'er the Lake of CASHMERE, with that One by his
If woman can make the worst wilderness dear,
Think, think what a Heav'n she must make of
CASHMERE!

So felt the magnificent Son of ACBAR,3
When from pow'r and pomp and the trophies of war
Ee flew to that Valley, forgetting them all
With the Light of the HARAM, his young NOUR-

MAHAL.

When free and uncrown'd as the Conqueror rov'd By the banks of that lake, with his only belov'd, He saw, in the wreaths she would playfully snatch From the hedges, a glory his crown could not match,

And preferr'd in his heart the least ringlet that

curl'd

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, Sining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender, Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendour. This was not the beauty-oh, nothing like this, That to young NOURMAHAL gave such magic of bliss!

1" At the keeping of the Feast of Roses we beheld an infinite member of tents pitched, with such a crowd of men, women, boys, girls, with music, dances," &c. &c.- Herbert.

An eld commentator of the Chou-King says, the ancients having remarked that a current of water made some of the stones Dear its banks send forth a sound, they detached some of them, and charmed with the delightful sound they emitted, constructed musical instruments of them."- Grosier.

Th's miraculous quality has been attributed also to the shore of Air, Hujus littus, ait Capella, concentum musicum illisis

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 Heav'n in his dreams.

When pensive, it seem'd as if that very grace, That charm of all others, was born with her face! And when angry,- for ev'n in the tranquillest climes

Light breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes-
The short, passing anger but seem'd to awaken
New beauty, like flow'rs that are sweetest when
shaken.

If tenderness touch'd her, the dark of her eye
At once took a darker, a heav'nlier dye,
From the depth of whose shadow, like holy re-
vealings

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;

Illum'd by a wit that would fascinate sages,
Yet playful as Peris just loos'd from their cages.*
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 brighten'd 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 though bright was his Haram, -a living parterre

Of the flow'rs of this planet-though treasures were there,

For which SOLIMAN's self might have giv'n all the

store

That the navy from OPHIR e'er wing'd to his shore, Yet dim before her were the smiles of them all, And the Light of his Haram was young NOUR

MAHAL!

terræ undis reddere, quod propter tantam eruditionis vim puto dictum."-Ludov. Vives in Augustin. de Civitat. Dei, lib. xviii.

c. 8.

3 Jehan-Guire was the son of the Great Acbar.

4 In the wars of the Dives with the Peris, whenever the former took the latter prisoners," they shut them up in iron cages, and hung them on the highest trees. Here they were visited by their companions, who brought them the choicest odours."-Richardson. 5 In the Malay language the same word signifies women and flowers.

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 Delighti

In Fairy-land, whose streets and tow'rs
Are made of gems and light and flow'rs!
Where is the lov'd 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 though 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 flow'ret's fetter'd round; 2
Loose not a tie that round him clings,
Nor ever let him use his wings;
For ev'n 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, though radiant when at rest, Lose all their glory when he flies!"

1 The capital of Shadukiam. See note 3, p. 43.

2 See the representation of the Eastern Cupid, pinioned closely round with wreaths of flowers, in Picart's Cérémonies Religieuses. 3" Among the birds of Tonquin is a species of goldfinch, which sings so melodiously that it is called the Celestial Bird. Its wings, when it is perched, appear variegated with beautiful colours, but

Some diff'rence, of this dang'rous kind,
By which, though light, the links that bind
The fondest hearts may soon be riv'n;
Some shadow in Love's summer heav'n,
Which, though 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 banish'd from his sight
His NOURMAHAL, his Haram's Light!
Hence is it, on this happy night,

When Pleasure through 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."

In vain the loveliest cheeks and eyes
This Eden of the Earth supplies

Come crowding round-the cheeks are pale, The eyes are dim:-through rich the spot With every flow'r this earth has got,

What is it to the nightingale,

If there his darling rose is not? 5
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 Stars adorers are,
She is the Heav'n 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 sequester'd bow'r, With no one near, to soothe or aid, But that inspir'd and wondrous maid, NAMOUNA, the Enchantress ;-one, O'er whom his race the golden sun For unremember'd 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 flow'r it passes by, — Time's wing but seem'd, 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 believ'd nor man nor earth Were conscious of NAMOUNA's birth!

when it flies they lose all their splendour."- Grosier. 4"As these birds on the Bosphorus are never known to rest, they are called by the French les âmes damnées.'”—Dalloway. 5You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and flowers before the nightingale, yet he wishes not, in his constant heart, for more than the sweet breath of his beloved rose."-Jami

To every breeze that roams about;
When thus NAMOUNA :— "Tis the hour
That scatters spells on herb and flow'r,
And garlands might be gather'd now,
That, twin'd 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 wreath'd

Of buds o'er which the moon has breath'd, Which worn by her, whose love has stray'd, "Might bring some Peri from the skies, "Some sprite, whose very soul is made "Of flow'rets' 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

"He is said to have found the great Mantra, spell or talisman, through which he ruled over the elements and spirits of all denoBiatives."-Wilford.

The gold jewels of Jinnie, which are called by the Arabs El B. from the supposed charm they contain."-Jackson. 1A demon, supposed to haunt woods, &c., in a human shape." -Richlan

The name of Jehan-Guire before his accession to the throne. Hemasagara, or the Sea of Gold, with flowers of the brightest Sadler." Sir W. Jones.

"This tree (the Nagacesara) is one of the most delightful on et, and the delicious odour of its blossoms justly gives them a in the quiver of Camadeva, or the God of Love."- Sir W.

The Malayans style the tube-rose (Polianthes tuberosa) Sal Malam, or the Mistress of the Night."-Pennant.

The people of the Batta country in Sumatra (of which Zamara

Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams, For this enchanted Wreath of Dreams. Anemones and Seas of Gold,'

And new-blown lilies of the river, And those sweet flow'rets, that unfold Their buds on CAMADEVA's quiver; 6 The tube-rose, with her silv'ry light,

That in the Gardens of Malay

Is call'd the Mistress of the Night,"
So like a bride, scented and bright,

She comes out when the sun's away;-
Amaranths, such as crown the maids
That wander through ZAMARA's shades;*.
And the white moon-flow'r, 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 flow'ret's and all plants,
From the divine Amrita tree,"
That blesses heaven's inhabitants
With fruits of immortality,
Down to the basil tuft 10, that waves
Its fragrant blossom over graves,
And to the humble rosemary,
Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed
To scent the desert" and the dead :-
All in that garden bloom, and all
Are gather'd by young NOURMAHAL,
Who heaps her baskets with the flow'rs

And leaves, till they can hold no more; Then to NAMOUNA flies, and show'rs Upon her lap the shining store.

With what delight the' Enchantress views
So many buds, bath'd with the dews
And beams of that bless'd 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 mix'd her soul with theirs.
And 'twas, indeed, the perfume shed
From flow'rs and scented flame, that fed
Her charmed life-for none had e'er
Beheld her taste of mortal fare,

is one of the ancient names), "when not engaged in war, lead an idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of flute, crowned with garlands of flowers, among which the globe-amaranthus, a native of the country, mostly prevails."- Marsden.

9 The largest and richest sort (of the Jambu, or rose-apple) is called Amrita, or immortal, and the mythologists of Tibet apply the same word to a celestial tree, bearing ambrosial fruit."- Sir W. Jones.

10 Sweet bazil, called Rayhan in Persia, and generally found in churchyards.

"The women in Egypt go, at least two days in the week, to pray and weep at the sepulchres of the dead; and the custom then is to throw upon the tombs a sort of herb which the Arabs call rihan, and which is our sweet basil."- Maillet, Lett. 10.

11" In the Great Desert are found niany stalks of lavender and rosemary."-Asiat. Res.