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:

1 "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 mesintelligence ayant déjà durée quelque tems commença à s'ennuyer. Giafar Barmaki, son favori, qui s'en appercût, commanda à Abbas ben Ahnaf, excellent poëte de ce tems là, de composer quelques vers sur le sujet de cette brouillerie. Ce poëté 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 pocte et de la douceur de la voix du musicien qu'il alla aussi-tôt trouver Maridah, et fit sa paix avec elle." - D'Herbelot.

THE LIGHT OF THE HARAM

WHO has not heard of the vale of CASHMERE,
With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave,1
Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear

As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave?

O! 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 through 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.2

Or to see it by moonlight,-when mellowly shines The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines; When the waterfalls gleam, like a quick fall of stars, And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars

1 "The rose of Kashmire, for its brilliancy and delicacy of odor, has long been proverbial in the East." Forster.

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

Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet
From the cool shining walks where the young peo

ple 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,1 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 through the mountainous portal 2 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; 3
The joyous time, when pleasures pour
Profusely round, and, in their shower,

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

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

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

Hearts open, like the Season's Rose,-
The Floweret of a hundred leaves,1
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

2

Behind the palms of BARAMOULE,
When maids began to lift their heads,
Refreshed, 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 hills is less alive,

When saffron-beds are full in flower,
Than looked the Valley in that hour.
A thousand restless torches played
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 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.

1 "Gul sad berk, the Rose of a hundred leaves. I believe a particular species." Ouseley. 2 Bernier.

3 A place mentioned in the Toozek Jehangeery, or Memoirs of Jehanguire, where there is an account of the beds of saffron-flowers about Cashmere,

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 bless'd them there; The roses ne'er shone half so bright,

Nor they themselves looked half so fair.

And what a wilderness of flowers!
It seemed as though 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,1

And answered by a ziraleet

From neighboring Haram, wild and sweet;

The merry laughter, echoing

From gardens, where the silken swing 2

Wafts some delighted girl above

The top leaves of the orange-grove ;

1 "It is the custom among the women to employ the Maazeen to chant from the gallery of the nearest minaret, which on that occasion is illuminated, and the women assembled at the house respond at intervals with a ziraleet or joyous chorus."

Russell.

"The swing is a favorite 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.