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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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Cr^ > 
 
TOLD IN THE GATE 
 
By the Same Author. 
 
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 Price, $1.50. 
 
 THE POET AND HIS SELF. i6mo. Cloth. 
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 A LADS LOVE. A Story. i6mo. Cloth. 
 Price. $1.00. 
 
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 A BOOK O' NINE TALES, with Inter- 
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 PRINCE VANCE. A Story of a Prince with 
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 Cloth. Price, $1.50. 
 
 Roberts Brothers, Publishers. 
 
TOLD IN TH^r GATE 
 BY ARLO *BATES 
 
 •U377X' 
 
 PUBLISHED BY ROBERTS BROTHERS 
 
 AT THEIR HOUSE 3 SOMERSET 
 
 STREET BOSTON 1892 
 
fS 
 
 
 Copyright, 1892, 
 By Arlo Bates. 
 
 ^4// rights reserved. 
 
 ^ttfoersitg Press: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
OF 
 
 ELEANOR PUTNAM, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 In the Gate 7 
 
 The Sorrow of Rohab 9 
 
 The Sword of Tahber 29 
 
 The City of Irem 47 
 
 Ahmed 71 
 
 The Wife of Hassan 87 
 
 The Ring of Haroun al Raschid 107 
 
 The Voice of Sakina 169 
 
IN THE GATE. 
 
 IN the arched gateway of fair Ispahan, 
 
 Where shadows all day long in ambush lurk 
 Ready to steal abroad at nightfall, sits 
 Omar, the story-teller. On his breast, 
 White as spnn-glass, his hoary beard flows down 
 Until it hides his girdle ; his deep eyes 
 Like cave-set pools in gleaming blackness shine ; 
 His voice is mellow as a drop which falls, 
 Pure liquid music, in a cistern hewn 
 From out the living rock. Around him sit 
 The chief men of the city, they that be 
 Princes and potentates of Ispahan, 
 All listening tireless to the tales he tells. 
 
 As there they sit at ease, lapped in delight, 
 
 Smoking long, fragrant pipes, and nodding grave 
 
 Their approbation with high dignity, 
 
 The doleful camels burdened pass, the train 
 
 Of desert- faring caravan ; and veiled 
 
 The women walk in unseen loveliness ; 
 
8 IN THE GATE. 
 
 While orient lights and perfumes and soft airs 
 Give to each sweet romance its setting fit ; 
 And each who hears, himself may haply be 
 Actor in tale as stra7ige as that he lists. 
 
 Through the long afternoon like fountain-fall 
 
 Runs o?i the tale till the dim air is sweet 
 
 With music of its murmurous syllables, 
 
 The liquid, melting cadences which drop 
 
 From Omar's lips like honey from tlie comb. 
 
 Spell-bound sit they who hear ; while tales like these 
 
 Old Omar tells ; and long the shadows grow 
 
 Of the tall camels passing and of slaves 
 
 Who watch their masters, envying their ease 
 
 In the cool gateway of fair Ispahan. 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 I 
 
 THE foes of Rohab thrust the tongue in cheek, 
 Smiled in their beards, and muttered each to each ; 
 Fleet messengers went riding north and south 
 And east and west among the tribes, while bruit 
 Of discord ever louder waxed, as plots 
 Begot and hatched in darkness bolder grew, 
 And showed themselves in day. 
 
 As adders held 
 In a strong grasp writhe to be free and sting, 
 The hostile tribes had writhed while Rohab' s hand 
 Held them in clutch of steel; but now at last, 
 When Rohab left the spear to thirst, the sword 
 To rust undrawn, and heard no sound more harsh 
 Than the lute's pleading ; now that Cintra's love 
 So filled to overflowing all his heart 
 That crown and people counted naught, — there rose 
 
12 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 A hundred murmurs sinister : the stir 
 Of foes implacable who knew their time 
 Had come. 
 
 His people called for Rohab. Fear 
 Fell like the famine's blight. His nobles came 
 Up to the doors behind which Rohab dwelt 
 With joy and Cintra ; but the lutes within 
 Mocked at their suit with merry cadences, 
 Behind the portals barred. The baser sort, 
 Angered with fright, and losing fear through fear 
 More great, sang ribald rhymes about their lord 
 Under his very lattice ; and he heard 
 Only to smile in hearing. <c How a wench," 
 They carolled shrilly, cc takes the conqueror 
 To be her plaything ! What is Rohab now ? 
 Only an ape that capers to delight 
 A wanton's leisure ! ' Stinging ribaldry 
 The king and Cintra laughed at, though the voice 
 Of all the land's despair was in the song. 
 
 Sedition waxed apace ; as rustlings run 
 Foreboding through the forest when the storm 
 Gathers its force, through all the army stirred 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 13 
 
 Murmurs of anger ; while the stealthy foe 
 Crept ever nearer. 
 
 Then, in wrath was half 
 Despair, by his sire's beard swore Isak, next 
 To Rohab's self in place and might, that life 
 And honor though it cost, he would have forth 
 The king, though he must needs perforce be torn 
 From Cintra's arms. 
 
 c< No living man," 
 He muttered, <c none, might overcome the king; 
 But she — " 
 
 And down the dusky corridors 
 Forbidden to the foot of man he went, 
 Still muttering in his beard fiercely : 
 
 "But she — !" 
 
H 
 
 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 II 
 
 The smoke of censers, where heaped ambergris 
 And myrrh and sandal-wood and cinnamon 
 Fragrantly smouldered, through the languid air 
 Crept upward, wavering slowly as it rose 
 To fans of slave girls, whose fair polished limbs 
 Glowed through the mists of gauzes roseate. 
 The pearly fall of fountains, and afar 
 The sound of distant bells, alone broke through 
 The luscious stillness of the afternoon. 
 
 At Cintra's shell-pink feet great Rohab lay, 
 His mighty body lapped in silken sloth ; 
 While all his soul yearned with love's ecstasies. 
 One playful finger of her slender hand 
 Dented his swarthy cheek's rough bronze till white 
 The pink nail showed, so hard she pressed it in. 
 Whereat he laughed, and caught the teasing hand, 
 And kissed it till she laughing drew it back. 
 
 Then to escape the burning of his eyes, 
 
 She turned and stretched her arm like a swan's neck 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. I 5 
 
 After her lute; a shower of pearl, she ran 
 Her fingers twinkling down the liquid strings, 
 And broke into a lay, meeting his glance 
 With eyes where ever love and laughter welled : 
 
 " Sweetheart, thy lips are touched with flame ; 
 Sweetheart, thy glowing ardor tame ; — 
 Sweetheart, thy love how can I blame, 
 
 When I, too, feel its fire, 
 
 When all thy fond desire, 
 Sweetheart, I know the same ? 
 
 " Sweetheart, thine eyes like rubies glow ; 
 Sweetheart, no more regard me so ; — 
 Sweetheart, I cannot chide thee though, 
 Since my looks too are burning, 
 Since I, too, throb with yearning ; 
 Sweetheart, thy pangs I know ! 
 
 " Sweetheart, the blood leaps in thy cheek; 
 Sweetheart, thy very heart-throbs speak ; — 
 Sweetheart, to chide I am too weak ; 
 
 My heart, so hotly beating, 
 
 Is still thy name repeating, 
 Sweetheart, to still it seek ! 
 
1 6 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 " Sweetheart, I touch thy brow; 
 Sweetheart, I kiss thee now ; — 
 Sweetheart — " 
 
 But Rohab dashed the pleading lute aside, 
 And ended all the lay's soft amorousness 
 To clasp her in his arms, and kiss her lips 
 And brow and bosom. Dearer than his fame 
 Or land or people was his love. 
 
 The clang 
 Of armor and the steps of one in haste 
 Broke through the monarch's dream. A hand in mail 
 Tore roughly at the silks of Samarcand 
 Which veiled the entrance to that nest of bliss. 
 
 In one another's arms, but with embrace 
 Half loosened in amaze that one should dare 
 Invade that paradise, the lovers looked 
 With startled eyes as through the portal came 
 Isak, doom-bearing; and on Cintra's cheek 
 Instinctive presage turned love's blushes pale. 
 On. Rohab's brow the cloud of mighty wrath 
 Swelled black as midnight tempest. 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. \J 
 
 " Wherefore this ? " 
 
 He cried. " Is Rohab counted now so light 
 
 His servants seek his face unbidden ? " 
 
 Word 
 
 There was not in reply ; but Isak's sword 
 
 Hissed in the air, and leaped with burning flash 
 
 Downward on Cintra's neck as lightning falls 
 
 Upon a lily. Her fair head, with all 
 
 Its wealth of hair shining and richly brown 
 
 Like melon seeds, its eyes of topaz, lips 
 
 Like twin pomegranate blooms, its cheeks as smooth 
 
 As a flute's note, all that rare loveliness 
 
 Had caught the heart of Rohab as a snare 
 
 Tangles the falcon in a coil of death, 
 
 Fell, changed to thing of horror, drenched in blood, 
 
 And beautiful no more. 
 
 With cry where rage 
 Fought mightily with grief, Rohab sprang up, 
 The rubies on his robe outmatched in red 
 By blood-drops ; while his hand sought for his sword, 
 But found it not. 
 
 " Thine enemies/' in taunt 
 Cried Isak, "at thy very gates set foot, 
 
I 8 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 And dallying with his love swordless is found 
 Rohab, the mighty ! Slay not me, O King, 
 Who am a warrior, with a hand perfumed 
 By playing with thy lady's locks ! When thou 
 Again art Rohab, mine own blade I lend 
 Till thou avenge this insult on my head. 
 Now, save thy people ! " 
 
 All the dancing girls, 
 Huddling as sheep crowd when the wolf is come, 
 ^Clustered around, but dared not speak or cry. 
 .At Rohab's feet the head that had been she 
 Lay white and staring-eyed, ghastly. — The king 
 Set his teeth hard ; his eyes were terrible ; 
 >Gray his swart cheeks. An instant as clocks count, — 
 But space how long to their strained souls ! — he stood 
 .Immovable. 
 
 cc So be it ! Go before." 
 
 Without one backward glance to where she lay 
 Wriom he. had loved, he followed Isak forth. 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 1 9 
 
 III 
 
 As the simoon which rushes frantic forth 
 
 To blast and blight ; as the fell swooping wave 
 
 An earthquake hurls upon the shuddering shore ; 
 
 As the dread sword in Azrael's awful hand — 
 
 So on his foes fell Rohab. All before 
 
 Was pride ; behind was shame. Before was strength ; 
 
 Behind was death. An all-consuming fire 
 
 He ravaged ; and of twice ten tribes, which bound 
 
 Themselves in oath blood- consecrated sword 
 
 Nor death itself should stay their bitter way 
 
 Till they had conquered Rohab, not one man 
 
 Was left to lift the spear. Festered with blood 
 
 Was the wide desert, and the vultures, gorged, 
 
 Even the scent of carrion could not stir. 
 
 His wrath was like the rage of Eblis when 
 Allah hurled him to hell. The leaping flames 
 Of thirty cities lighted Cintra's ghost 
 The darksome way it went. Drunken with blood 
 And mad with rage, the burning lust to kill 
 And kill and kill devoured his very soul. 
 
20 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 Since she was dead, it stung him to the quick 
 That any dared be yet alive ! He slew 
 And slew and slew, till there were none to slay ; 
 Till trampled in the blood-drenched dust lay prone 
 The might of all the tribes. 
 
 Ever the king 
 Fought with the meanest, with his warriors fared ; 
 And leading once himself a band that stole 
 To fall upon a village unaware, 
 While in the thicket crouched, he saw a girl, 
 Barefooted and barearmed, a peasant maid, 
 Singing as day went down a song of love, 
 Twirling her distaff as with shining eyes 
 She looked across the plain like one who waits : 
 
 cc Sings the nightingale to the rose : 
 
 c Without thy love I die ! 
 
 Sweetheart, regard my cry ! ' 
 Sings the fountain as it flows : 
 
 c Oh, lily, comfort give ; 
 
 Sweetheart, for thee T live ! ' 
 Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, dear, 
 I love thee, and I wait thee here ! 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 21 
 
 " Sings the cyclamen to the bee: 
 
 'In love alone is rest; 
 
 Sweetheart, come to my breast.' 
 Sings the moon on high to the sea: 
 
 1 1 shine for thee alone ; 
 
 Sweetheart, I am thine own.' 
 Oh, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart, dear, 
 I love thee, and I wait thee here ! " 
 
 And Rohab, cut to heart, drew back his band, 
 
 Sparing the village for the sake of her 
 
 And for the song whose murmuring burden brought 
 
 The memory of another song too sweet, 
 
 Too sad to bear. 
 
 Ever at Rohab's side 
 Where battled fiercest eddies swirled and raged, 
 With spume of bloody foam and dreadful wrack 
 Of broken bodies, trampled man and horse, 
 Tall spear, proud helm, and vaunting blazoned shield, 
 All ownerless despite their boast, Isak 
 Like an avenging angel fought, with sword 
 That bulwarked Rohab. Thrice he thrust himself 
 Between the king and blows that would have slain ; 
 
22 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 Once and again, watching for treachery, 
 
 He gave the warning saved the king from foes 
 
 Disguised like his own guards and creeping close. 
 
 Yet ever Rohab, like one hating life, 
 
 Still held his peace, and gave no word of praise. 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 23 
 
 IV 
 
 So wore it till an end was made of war, 
 
 And swords were sheathed for very lack of foes. 
 
 Prostrate on earth, Rohab, within his tent, 
 Sorrowed for Cintra, hearing cries of joy 
 From all the host, and stir of those who shared 
 The slaves, and noise of those dividing spoil, 
 And songs of those who revelled, while each cry 
 Was as a poisoned dart which stung his soul 
 With festering wound. 
 
 Then came the splendid day 
 The host gave thanks for victory. The plain 
 Sparkled with armor like the sunlit sea ; 
 And glowed with colors like a sunset sky. 
 From every tent-top pennants fluttered gay, 
 With brave devices wrought in red and gold, 
 Orange and azure, green and amethyst — 
 Dragons and monsters, crescents, stars, and all 
 The arrogant emblaze of heraldry. 
 
24 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 Like lithe and glistening water-snakes at play, 
 
 That double coil on coil, twist fold on fold, 
 
 In brave array the squadrons wound and wheeled, 
 
 The air all palpitant with beat of drum 
 
 And blare of trumpets, cymbals, horns, and shawms. 
 
 Thicker and richer than the butterflies 
 
 Above the flower-set meads of Gulistan 
 
 A thousand banners waving flew, and plumes 
 
 Were as the thistle-down that floats and flies 
 
 Where white wild asses feed by Tigris' bank. 
 
 So came the army, marching troop by troop, 
 Where Rohab sat in state to judge his foes 
 And recompense his heroes. 
 
 After shouts 
 Which made the banners shake, and joyful noise 
 Of countless instruments, there came at last 
 A silence. One by one, war-worn and grim, 
 Those leaders of the tribes the sword had spared 
 In bitter mockery of mercy, heard 
 Their doom of torture with calm front and eves 
 Unquailing, prouder in defeat and shame 
 Than ever in their days of power and pomp. 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 25 
 
 Then one by one the warriors of the king 
 Received their mead of richly won rewards 
 Of gold or glory, with the word of praise 
 From Rohab's lips, most precious boon of all. 
 To every troop its tale of spoil was told, 
 Loot of the tribes in gold and gear and gems. 
 
 Last of the host knelt Isak at the throne. 
 
 On him with fierce eyes Rohab looked, no word 
 Loosing his firm-set lips, while Isak drew 
 His sword from scabbard. 
 
 " Now, O King/' he said, 
 " That thou again art Rohab, prince of all 
 Who walk under the stars, I keep my vow. 
 Take mine own sword and smite." 
 
 But Rohab stooped, 
 And raised him to his feet ; from his own side 
 Ungirt the gem-encrusted scabbard. 
 
 " Nay," 
 He answered, "sword for sword. I give thee mine 
 That all men thus may know whom most the king 
 Delights to honor." 
 
26 THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 All the circling host 
 Rent the high heavens with shouting, while the king 
 With his own hands did on the royal sword 
 To Isak's thigh. 
 
 " Rohab the king," he said, 
 " Honors thy hardihood which did not spare 
 For fear of death or love of self to slay 
 His dearest, even in his arms, to save 
 The land. Rohab the king commends thee; gives 
 Thee highest grace and praise. Rohab the man — " 
 
 He paused for one fierce breath, and all the host 
 Was still, awed by his wrath ; but Isak, pale, 
 Faced him unflinching, though he read his doom 
 In the king's blazing eyes. 
 
 C£ Rohab the man," 
 The bitter words ran on, "cannot forget 
 How Cintra died. Seek her in Paradise, 
 Where thou hast sent her ; say that her lord's woe 
 Is as his valor, matchless among men, 
 And not to be assuaged. Rohab the king 
 Delights to honor thee. Rohab the man 
 Avenges Cintra's death, and smites ! " 
 
THE SORROW OF ROHAB. 
 
 As fleet 
 As light the blade that had been Isak's flashed 
 Downward. Nor Cintra's blood, nor blood of all 
 The foes of Rohab it had drunk could glut 
 Its thirst insatiate as it leaped in greed 
 To drink its master's. 
 
 Then when Isak's head 
 Fell as her lovely head had fallen, death 
 Were not more silent than the awe-struck host. 
 
 But Rohab hid his face, and wept — for her. 
 
 27 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 I 
 
 TAHBER, the swordsmith, chief of all his craft 
 In fair Damascus, wrought his very soul 
 Into one splendid weapon. Day and night 
 Nine months he fashioned it ; and said at last : 
 
 " This sword instead of my slain son shall be 
 
 My wrong's avenger. My heart's blood I give 
 
 To temper it. Then, having done my all, 
 
 I leave the rest to Allah ; He alone 
 
 Can sheathe it in the false breast of my foe. 
 
 Who sits like Him, enthroned above my reach. 
 
 O Allah, righter of all wrongs, receive 
 
 This sword, and smite with Thy resistless hand ! ' 
 
 Then over him remembrance of his woe 
 Swept like a bitter wave that whelms the shore. 
 
32 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 " Oh, lost Gulmaar ! Oh, my lost son ! " he cried ; 
 And, crying, thrust the blade into his heart. 
 
 Well all men knew the swordsmith's wrongs. He 
 
 loved 
 Beyond all telling his fair wife Gulmaar, 
 Torment of hearts, world's darling, pearl of love. 
 To him the halls of Eblis had been heaven 
 With her ; without her, Paradise were hell. 
 Not all the roses which in glowing bloom 
 Jewelled Damascus' rose-rich gardens vied 
 In beauty with her cheeks ; no drop which fell 
 In all its many crystal fountains flashed 
 With lustre like her eyes ; the nightingale 
 In dim Damascan bowers to its love 
 Warbled in tones less liquid than her voice. 
 She swayed the heart of Tahber as the moon 
 Draws the tide after ; and when she had borne 
 A son fair as herself, and strong of limb 
 With sturdy promise of his sire's might, 
 Not Allah's self, throned 'mid His cherubim, 
 Could thrill with greater rapture than the soul 
 Of Tahber knew, blest with his wife and child. 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 33 
 
 But bliss is brittle as an amber bead. 
 Damascus knew the beauty of Gulmaar ; 
 And as the thistle-down wanders wind-blown, 
 So rumor of her peerless loveliness 
 From lip to lip flew lightly till it reached 
 Even the Caliph's ears in Bagdad. Swift 
 The Caliph sought Damascus, creeping close, 
 Like other beast, unto his prey. Who knows 
 The ways of evil, — and who knows them not ? 
 The Caliph is as Allah in his might; 
 The Caliph was as Eblis in his lust. 
 A woman's beauty is the stake she plays 
 Against the world, and wins her what she may. 
 Too beautiful for virtue, if Gulmaar 
 Set her steps to the seeker's, let her veil 
 Be brushed aside a moment as she passed 
 Through the bazaar, was it or more or less 
 Than any woman fair as she and sought 
 By very Majesty itself, had done ? 
 Who sets his joy upon a woman's faith 
 Hangs by a cobweb over an abyss. 
 
 One night the moon, golden as honey, shone 
 Upon the swordsmith's garden, and its light 
 
34 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 Fell gleaming upon helm and mail and blade 
 Of them that reft Gulmaar from spouse and child 
 To glad the Caliph's heart ; while her babe lay- 
 Dead by his father's side, who seemed as dead, 
 So deep the sword-thrusts of the ravishers. 
 
 Through the long days in which he struggled back 
 To life again, as some poor shipwrecked wretch 
 Fights his way upward through the seething brine, 
 The bitterest pang which tortured Tahber's soul 
 Was the accurs'd remembrance that Gulmaar 
 Chose life in shame rather than death with him. 
 In burning watches of the night he heard — 
 Or seemed to hear — the sound of lutes afar; 
 While visions stung his aching eyes of her, 
 His pearl, throned in the Caliph's harem. Dead 
 She still were his, waiting in Paradise ; 
 But living she was lost, and he left lone, 
 Companionless in the whole universe. 
 
 He groped his way to life, and wrought the sword ; 
 Then, in despairing ecstasy of faith, 
 Set his all on a single throw, and gave 
 His vengeance into Allah's hand, and died. 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 II 
 
 Throughout Damascus was this story told, 
 And all men looked on Tahber's sword with fear; 
 Till from Bokhara came a mighty sheikh, 
 Who saw the blade and coveted, nor feared 
 The curse, owning no guilt. He with him bore 
 The weapon home ; and then Damascus folk 
 Said to each other : 
 
 " See ; the curse has failed. 
 How can the sword from far Bokhara smite 
 At Bagdad ? " 
 
 Thus they muttered, counting not 
 That Allah knows not distance nor forgets. 
 
 One pearly evening, as in dalliance sweet 
 The Caliph in his garden with Gulmaar 
 Reclined beside a fountain, lapped in soft 
 Warm airs laden with perfumes languorous 
 Of orange, jasmine, and a thousand blooms, 
 They heard a wandering minstrel, who passed by 
 Outside the wall, sing with the voice of fate 
 A lay which told of that Damascan blade. 
 
 35 
 
36 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 The Caliph listened while the song extolled 
 That marvel of a sword beyond all price 
 Of gold or jewels, rare as faithful love, 
 The vanquisher of hosts, — nor yet divined 
 This steel was cursed for vengeance on his head, 
 Since none dare vex his ear with Tahber's deed. 
 
 cc Now by the Prophet's beard, Damascus yields," 
 The Caliph jested, cc marvels manifold. 
 Its blades are as its women, matchless. Could 
 This sword enchant me as thou dost, Gulmaar ? ' 
 
 And still the song ran on, until Gulmaar 
 In one flash understood, and knew the bard 
 Told her own tale of shame ; yet hiding fear 
 Beckoned a eunuch as to send reward 
 Unto the unseen minstrel, singing thus: 
 
 cc At Allah's feet he laid his wrongs, 
 
 In Allah's ear he poured his prayer; 
 In his heart's blood baptized his sword, 
 And left the rest to Allah's care. 
 
 " The hand of Allah reacheth far, 
 
 Nor seas nor lands from Him divide : 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 37 
 
 In vain earth's utmost bounds they seek 
 Who would from Allah's vengeance hide. 
 
 " The mind of Allah cannot sleep ; 
 Alike to Him are rich and poor. 
 Be it or soon or be it late, 
 
 When Allah strikes vengeance is sure." 
 
 The dagger of the eunuch stopped the song. 
 But terror bit the false heart of Gulmaar. 
 
 Then in the Caliph's heart awoke desire 
 
 To own that peerless sword ; and at his word 
 
 Couriers were sent, who brought back word again 
 
 How to Bokhara what they sought was gone. 
 
 Then vexed that thus his will was crossed, command 
 
 The Caliph gave to seek anew the sword, 
 
 Nor spare gold in the getting; but Gulmaar 
 
 In secret breathed more freely that the curse 
 
 For this time was averted ; and with wiles 
 
 As cunning as a lizard's on the wall 
 
 She strove to charm her lord, that he forget 
 
 The thing she feared. Glad was she when again 
 
 The messengers came back from fruitless quest. 
 
38 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 Bokhara's sheikh had sent the fated brand 
 In tribute unto far-off Astrabad. 
 
 So seemed 
 The Caliph's fate to flee him, as full oft 
 The doom which comes most surely seems to flee 
 Until the time which Allah doth appoint. 
 Still teased by the desire which fiercer grew 
 From being thwarted, yet again he sent 
 Swift messengers all the long, dangerous way 
 To Astrabad, as if the whole round world 
 Stretched its long leagues and deserts wide in vain 
 To come between the Caliph and his will. 
 
 Then in the bosom of Gulmaar arose 
 A haunting terror, as to one who sees 
 The shadow of a coming doom steal nigh. 
 Yet when a third time came with empty hands 
 The Caliph's messengers, and said : cc The sword 
 We could not buy for gold poured out like sand, 
 Nor win with pleading; ' in her heart leaped up 
 A triumph insolent, such as false hope 
 Beo-ets in those whose fall shall bitterest be. 
 She made this lay, and sang it to her lute, 
 Soft fluting now, and now shrill-voiced with joy : 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 " Wine spilled who can gather again ? 
 
 Who revive the sweet rose that is dead ? 
 To repine for the past is in vain ; 
 
 Never more comes the day that has fled. 
 
 " For still what is done, it is done ; 
 
 And the word that flies into the air 
 Cannot alter what fate has begun, — 
 
 For the world is not changed by a prayer. 
 
 <f A curse is but breath though hearts break ; 
 And the living need fear not the dead, 
 Since they sleep far too soundly to wake, 
 Since the whole of their story is said ! " 
 
 So in her triumph lived Gulmaar, with pride 
 Which like a deadly scarlet fungus sprang. 
 Each morn more lovely grown, day after day 
 She wound the Caliph's heart in tighter mesh 
 Of her enchantments; day by day devised 
 New revels, fresh delights, and luxuries 
 Wrung from a starving people, at whose woes 
 Gulmaar mocked, splendid in her wickedness, 
 Leading the Caliph on from wrong to wrong, 
 And matchless in her sins as in her grace ; — 
 While still the sword was far in Astrabad. 
 
 39 
 
40 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Trodden beneath the Caliph's feet, like grapes 
 Crushed in the wine-press till their reeking blood 
 Splashed all his robes of state, the people lay, 
 And groaned for mercy, while the heavens seemed brass 
 Unto their crying. Greed and cruelty 
 Usurped the place of justice, till the land 
 Turned like a wounded beast that crouches close 
 For one last desperate spring, its blood-shot eyes 
 A-glare with fierceness. Treasons numberless 
 In secret waxed, like worms which gnaw away 
 The heart of some great tree burgeoning green 
 To fall as lightning-smit. The Caliph's son, 
 Thirsting for power, and poisoned with the taint 
 'Of blood and treachery with which the land 
 Was festering, devised to steal his crown. 
 While still the father revelled day by day, 
 .Drinking his fill of wine and love and blood, 
 And glutted all desires his senses knew, 
 The. son with craft and costly bribes seduced 
 'From his allegiance Babec, trusted most 
 Of them the Caliph still might dare to trust. 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 4 1 
 
 Then shameless went the son to fair Gulmaar, 
 And told her all. 
 
 " This very night," he said, 
 " The Caliph falls like a ripe fig, and thou 
 Wouldst with him fall, but that thy beauty snares 
 My heart as all men's. Thou shalt reign with me; 
 And I will give thee seas of bliss for each 
 Poor drop this peevish dotard doles. " 
 
 And she, 
 Too deep of guile to let her heart be read, 
 Put her slim hand in his and kissed his eyes. 
 
 " The Caliph is as dead already," soft 
 She murmured, " if thy hand against him turn. 
 I to the living cleave. Sure be thy blow ; 
 Love shall reward thee ! " 
 
 But when he had passed, 
 Panting and breathless sped she to her lord, 
 Saying within her heart in bitter scorn : 
 
 " Nay, since this Caliph is my slave, I risk 
 No chance of my dominion. I will win 
 New favor warning him, and serve myself 
 In double wise." 
 
42 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 But as she raised her hand 
 To part the curtains from the hidden door 
 Gave entrance to his presence, sharp she paused. 
 The sound of voices, and the words of one 
 Who bore the Caliph greeting from afar 
 Arrested her quick steps ; there smote her ear 
 A word of dread : — one spoke of Astrabad. 
 
 Slow is the blooming of fate's aloe-tree; 
 
 Swift bursts its flower when the full time is come. 
 
 As one who sees a grave yawn at his feet 
 
 Where all looked firm ground, stood Gulmaar aghast. 
 
 An embassy was come from Astrabad, 
 
 Bearing the Sword of Tahber ; and one said : 
 
 "Commander of the Faithful, not for gold 
 Our lord would yield this treasure, which he sends 
 Without price, knowing none on earth save thee, 
 Who art as Allah, worthv of this steel. " 
 
 Glad was the Caliph of that gift. He drew 
 
 The blade out of its scabbard with a crv, 
 
 ■i j 
 
 Gazing in wrapt amazement, while Gulmaar 
 Peeped shuddering through the curtains, cold with 
 fear. 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 43 
 
 Full glorious was that sword, jewel of war. 
 Its blade was like a shaft of living light, 
 Smooth, shining, straight, — yet seeming sinuous 
 As a snake's tongue while the reflections played 
 Along its length. Almost it seemed to leap 
 Out of its haft, so thin it was and slim 
 Despite its strength. Allah's death angel dread 
 Smites not with brand more awful or more sharp 
 Than that embodied terror, edged so keen 
 It might divide shadow from shadow, cut 
 Between a rose and its perfume. One side, 
 In golden letters graved with perfect skill, 
 "There is no god but allah " bore; and one: 
 "In allah's hand i put this sword, the curse." 
 Never smith's cunning shaped with flawless art 
 Marvel more beautiful and terrible. 
 
 The Caliph held the sword and turned its blade 
 Flashing and writhing like a tongue of flame. 
 He breathed on it to see its brightness cast 
 The dimness off; and drew his finger-tips 
 Along its edge with touch like a caress 
 Laid on the polished bosom of Gulmaar. 
 Over its beauty fierce he gloated ; smiled 
 
44 THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 
 
 With eyes that greedy seemed for blood ; nor knew 
 
 It was his doom had found him. 
 
 " Give/' he said, 
 
 " Dinars ten thousand to the messenger. 
 
 A kingdom's ransom pays a gift like this ! ' 
 
 He turned to Babec then, who stood on guard. 
 
 " To thee," he said, cc I give to wear this sword, 
 
 Than which I nothing higher rate save thee. 
 
 Such blade in such a hand invincible 
 
 Might make a kingdom. Guard my treasure well, 
 
 As if it were a tender damsel. See 
 
 That it thirst not when there is blood to drink ! ' 
 
 Then Babec took the wonder, while Gulmaar 
 Set her teeth through her lip, so red and full 
 To call it 'bee-stung' was the Caliph's jest. 
 
 "Well shall be done," Babec made answer, "all 
 
 That is commanded. I will bring the sword 
 
 To that end Allah wills." 
 
 They that stood by. 
 
 All save the Caliph only, knew the guile 
 
 Was hidden in the word ; but he, well pleased, 
 
 Fondled his beard, and for the last time smiled 
 
THE SWORD OF TAHBER. 45 
 
 For at that moment from far minaret 
 
 The voice of the muezzin fell and called 
 
 To prayer the faithful ; and Gulmaar, who knew 
 
 This was the signal for the Caliph's foes, 
 
 Shrieked out in fear, and flung the curtain by. 
 
 "Treason!' she cried. "Oh, give not him the 
 sword ! " 
 
 But Babec flashed the blade before her face, 
 Crying: 
 
 " Nay, it is thirsty, O Gulmaar ! 
 Its time has come to taste again the draught 
 It drank in Tahber's bosom." 
 
 As he spoke 
 A tumult rose, and noise of those who came 
 Rushing with clash of weapons; and Gulmaar, 
 Faithful at last after life's long unfaith, 
 Flung her fair body in between the sword 
 And him it threatened ; so that one fierce thrust 
 Pierced through her breast, which Tahber once had 
 
 loved, 
 And sent the blade deep in the Caliph's heart. 
 
 Thus Allah with the Sword of Tahber smote. 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 I 
 
 A 
 
 Ty^ELABAH, wandering through the sun-bleached 
 
 -■-V. sands 
 
 Of Aden, seeking toilsomely the trace 
 
 Of his strayed camels, came in very truth 
 
 To that lost city, hid from eyes of men, 
 
 Sheddad builded of old ere Allah sent 
 
 A sea of wrath to overwhelm his pride. 
 
 Mightiest of all earth nourished was Sheddad, 
 Like Allah's self in strength and wealth and fame; 
 But like the sin of Eblis was his sin. 
 As Eblis, born of fire, refused to bow 
 To clay-born man, though Allah gave command, 
 So in his scorn Sheddad would not bow down 
 Even to Allah, matching human might 
 With His who made it. 
 
 4 
 
50 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 "All that Allah can," 
 Sheddad had vowed with pride that soared to heaven, 
 " I can no less. Even that Paradise 
 Which He hath built on high my hand on earth 
 Shall far out-build." 
 
 And at his word there rose 
 Irem, such city as earth had not seen 
 Till then, nor shall again till Judgment Day. 
 Far Allah stood aloof till all was done ; 
 But then His lightnings fell, and in a breath 
 Sheddad and all his hosts were and were not. 
 Yet for a sign was Irem left unscorched, 
 Perfect in beauty ; though the eyes of men 
 Seek it in vain. Invisible it stands 
 Amid the wastes of Aden till earth fall. 
 
 Faithful Kelabah walked in Allah's sight, 
 Careful in all the law, and giving alms 
 To half his substance; but his secret heart 
 Was cankered with the sin of Eblis, — pride 
 Like his who builded Irem to his fall. 
 But Allah, the compassionate, had love 
 Unto Kelabah ; and in Aden's sands 
 Led his feet to the gates invisible 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 5 I 
 
 Of vanished Irem, showing all things plain, 
 That he might see the punishment of pride, 
 And learn how frail is man's best virtuousness. 
 
 The camels of Kelabah strayed away 
 Into the wastes of Aden, and he went 
 With one poor camel-driver at his side 
 Seeking them there ; and as they took their way 
 Kelabah still dwelt on the law, as one 
 Who finds his chief delight in holiness. 
 
 " Allah," he said, "gives grace beyond account 
 To those who keep His word; while still His wrath 
 Falls like the sand-storm upon those who slight 
 In its least jot the law." 
 
 " Nay ; merciful," 
 The other answered, cc and compassionate 
 Like mother to her babe, is Allah. Love 
 Is mightier than the law; nay, love is law." 
 
 "Nay," urged Kelabah, cc law is Allah's word, 
 And Allah's word of all things greatest is. 
 One pin-prick in the wine-skin spills the wine, 
 One broken link shatters the chain ; and so 
 
52 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 Should I in least observance ever fail, 
 I were accurst as those who worship fire." 
 
 cc This very morn," the camel-driver said, 
 " When the muezzin called to sunrise prayer, 
 I ministered to a sick slave, nor could 
 I leave his bedside to fulfil the rite. 
 Yet better pleased I Allah that I stayed 
 Than had I scores of long prostrations made. 
 Allah is most compassionate, nor holds 
 Mercy below the letter of His word. 
 What Allah is is Allah's highest law." 
 
 Then was Kelabah wroth, and cried : 
 
 " Begone ! 
 Herd thou with unbelievers ! As for me, 
 I will no longer walk with one unclean, 
 Even in this bare waste ! " 
 
 And all alone 
 Kelabah went his way across the sands, 
 Nursing his virtuous wrath in Allah's name, 
 And wrapped in sense of his own sanctity. 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 II 
 
 53 
 
 Lone like a lark in level wastes of air, 
 
 Or pelican in deserts desolate, 
 
 Kelabah said the sunset prayer, and called 
 
 Allah to witness that his faith was firm 
 
 Though lost his way and danger all around. 
 
 The sands encompassed him about like seas ; 
 
 The vaulted sky above was thick with stars 
 
 As meads at morn with dew-drops. Round and red 
 
 The moon rose on his left ; and its warm light, 
 
 Striking through evening dusks of Aden, gleamed 
 
 On domes and towers, and lofty walls of pride, 
 
 As if the soft night wind from mist had heaped 
 
 A phantom city. Soaring heaven-high 
 
 Its towers sprang, their shining whiteness tinged 
 
 By the red moon like far peaks sunset-stained. 
 
 From roofs of gold the ruddy light was flashed, 
 
 While lofty plumes of palm-trees waved between 
 
 Like feathery fans above a sultan's head. 
 
 Amazed Kelabah stood, mute with the fear 
 This vision held some wile of sorcery; 
 
54 THE CITY OF I REM. 
 
 But some power like an unseen hand compelled 
 
 His feet on toward the city's gate, which high 
 
 Lifted its portals of so awful mien 
 
 That man must shrink in awe only to look 
 
 Upon their giant front. Kelabah bent 
 
 As if their simple shadow weighed him down 
 
 As he passed through and entered tremblingly 
 
 I rem, the beautiful. 
 
 About him rose 
 The silent city like a dream of night. 
 Such palaces the dreaming poet sees 
 Gazing with full heart on the sunset clouds, 
 Longing to pierce them through, and fill his soul 
 With sight of Paradise. Thick stood around 
 Temples like music rendered visible ; 
 Towers that soared like song ; lattice and gate 
 Like verses sung to a sweet dulcimer 
 When some fair slave would ravish her lord's ear. 
 Domes floated light as clouds, with rounded curves 
 Like a young damsel's bosom ; cornices, 
 More delicate than lace or shadows cast 
 By the moon shining through the jasmine vine, 
 Rimmed the white walls. On every side there gleamed 
 Marbles like jewels tinted, precious stones, 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 55 
 
 Jasper and onyx and chalcedony, 
 
 Crystal and alabaster, everywhere 
 
 Wrought into cunning shapes of beauteousness, 
 
 With mimicry of palm-tree springing tall, 
 
 And branch and leaf, and clustered bloom and fruit, — 
 
 So lovely that the hushed heart ached to see. 
 
 Gold and enamels gleamed, and arabesques 
 
 Which could not but have been — so rich they were — 
 
 Stolen from Allah's dwelling. 
 
 All between, 
 Fair as love's ecstasies, wide gardens lay, 
 Where groves of citron grew, thickets of rose, 
 Myrtle, pomegranate, and the jasmine sweet; 
 Where fountains sparkling played, and nightingales 
 Pierced through the moon-lit dusk with shafts of song. 
 
 Yet awesome was that city, since no sound 
 Of human voice or footfall stirred the night. 
 No faint refrain of distant revellers, 
 Or noise of busy folk the quiet stirred. 
 Even that sense of life subtler than air 
 Which fills a sleeping city with a hum 
 One rather feels than hears, broke not the calm. 
 Silent as some lone dwelling of the dead 
 
56 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 Where the sad nightingale's heart-piercing lay 
 Amid the graves makes stillness yet more deep, 
 Lay Irem, as Kelabah doubtful passed 
 From street to street, as one who walks in dreams 
 Some waste spell-plagued, fearing he knows not what, 
 
 Along the moon-white street the echoes mocked 
 
 His footfalls' sound with ghostly iterance, 
 
 As if pale phantoms followed after. Fear 
 
 Struck at Kelabah's heart, and clutched his throat, 
 
 Until he dared not stay, yet feared to flee ; 
 
 And terror seemed too awful to be borne ; — 
 
 When sudden to his ear there stole the notes 
 
 Of a far lute, which breathed of human cheer 
 
 And seemed a call to joy. The warm blood leaped 
 
 Once more within his bosom at the sound, 
 
 While thrills delicious quickened in his veins. 
 
 Such magic was there in that melody 
 
 It seemed already to his lips were set 
 
 Cups of red wine, while round his neck there stole 
 
 The warm arms of fair damsels, formed for love. 
 
 Eager his steps he hastened, following on 
 Whither that luscious strain inviting called. 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 Ill 
 
 57 
 
 Adown an avenue where on each hand 
 
 The tall chinars, the tree of excellence. 
 
 Their splendid plumage waved, Kelabah went, 
 
 Up to a palace portal clustered thick 
 
 With carven pillars, painted every hue 
 
 The flower-tufted mead can boast in spring. 
 
 Onward he pressed through mighty halls, whose tiles 
 
 Might shame the choicest jewels in the hoard 
 
 Of great King Solomon, into whose hand 
 
 The genii gave the richest spoils of earth. 
 
 The beams of light from countless silver lamps 
 
 As with caressing fingers touched those walls, 
 
 And drew their thousand wavering colors forth 
 
 As flower-soft girls draw forth bewitching notes 
 
 From the clear dulcimer. 
 
 Still, as he went 
 Ever the lute's enticing fantasies 
 Sounded more clear, calling his feet to haste 
 Lest joy elude him which were past all word. 
 At last he came before a curtain wrought 
 In silk and gold with matchless imagery ; 
 
58 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 And put it by, and looked within a room 
 
 Where a young damsel lay whose loveliness 
 
 Caught his breath from him ; till that doorway seemed 
 
 Like the lote-tree in Paradise on high. 
 
 Beyond which even angels dare not go. 
 
 A damsel world-delighting was that maid, 
 
 On cushions fair reclining as a leaf 
 
 Floats on a fountain's foam. Rich were her robes 
 
 Of silk of Yezd, bestrewn with star-thick gems 
 
 Brighter than all things earthly save her eyes. 
 
 Close to her rosy ear, whose jewel glowed 
 
 Like dewdrop on rose-petal, her lute's neck 
 
 She pressed, and while Kelabah stood entranced, 
 
 Smitten with love as with a javelin 
 
 Flung by a chieftain of the tribes, she sang : 
 
 cc The ripe pomegranate bursts, 
 And its crimson juices spill; 
 But they cannot stain my mouth, which thirsts 
 To drink of thy kisses its fill, 
 Since my lips are redder still ! " 
 
 Yet in amaze Kelabah stood struck dumb, 
 Wrapt with the song, and dizzy with delight ; 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 59 
 
 While the strain melted into one so soft, 
 So wooing, and so amorous, that tears 
 Sprang in his burning eyes, hearing her sing : 
 
 " Oh, sweet is the honeycomb cooled with snow, 
 And sweet is thy bosom, warm with love ; 
 So sweet are remembrances when I must go, 
 So sweet when I come is my dove ! ' 
 
 Then playful down the strings her fingers ran, 
 And mocking in alluring witchery, 
 She carolled, bending on him night-black eyes, 
 And laughing till her dimples twinkling shown: 
 
 " The rose leans over the pool ; 
 
 Oh, touch me not, touch me not I 
 When the sun burns above her, 
 The rude bee will love her ; 
 Oh, touch me not, love I 
 When the night breeze is cool — 
 Oh, kiss me not, kiss me not ! 
 With song that pursues her 
 The nightingale woos her ; 
 
 Oh, touch me not, kiss me not, love! 
 
60 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 " The moth to the jasmine flies — 
 
 Oh, touch me not, touch me not I 
 Drunk with fervid desire, 
 With love's passionate fire ; 
 
 Oh, touch me not, love ! 
 In her bosom he lies, 
 
 Oh, kiss me not, kiss me not ! 
 Till smothered in kisses 
 He dies of love's blisses; 
 
 Oh, touch me not, kiss me not, love I " 
 
 With that she flung the ringing lute aside, 
 And started from the couch where she reclined, 
 To take him by the sleeve, and draw him on 
 Into that chamber decked for love and bliss ; 
 And bow herself before him, murmuring : 
 
 "Welcome, O lord and master! I, thy slave, 
 Have waited long, and wearied for the sound 
 
 Of thy feet's coming." 
 
 White her waving arms 
 Flashed in the lamp-light as she sprinkled musk, 
 And seated him on rich brocades of Roum. 
 Then brought she cakes and fruits, and sweetmeats rare 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 6 I 
 
 Might make a saint break fast in Ramadhan ; 
 
 And sherbets cool, and crystal cups of wine; 
 
 And handed snowy napkins fringed with gold, 
 
 Serving his every wish. 
 
 " Oh, peri-faced," 
 
 Kelabah cried, " before whose loveliness 
 
 The houris must their faces veil in shame, 
 
 It is not lawful that I taste thy wine." 
 
 With smile constraining more than all the wiles 
 
 Of sorcery, she held the cup. 
 
 cc Now, nay," 
 
 She said, " within this chamber there is naught 
 
 Unlawful save what thwarts my will." 
 
 Her glance 
 
 And the sweet fumes of wine mingled to daze 
 
 Kelabah's sense before he tasted. Drunk 
 
 With keen delight, scarce knowing what he did, 
 
 He who had never failed in all the law, 
 
 Took up the cup ; and she, seeing it turn 
 
 From ruby into crystal as he drank, 
 
 Clapped her small hands till all her bangles rang, 
 
 And laughed in glee. 
 
 " Now thou art mine indeed," 
 
 She cried, "as I am thine. O lord and love, 
 
62 THE CITY OF /REM. 
 
 How long and long and long have been the days 
 Since foot of man along these silent streets 
 Awoke the echoes querulous to complain. 
 Love, by my faithful waiting for this hour. 
 Am I not thine ? " 
 
 And seething in his blood 
 Kelabah felt the fires of wine and love. 
 
 "Yea, thou art mine," he answered. " I am thine. 
 Kiss me, and clasp me close, and let thine heart 
 Beat on my breast, thou moon of love ! ' 
 
 But she 
 Drew back a little, and with beckoning hand 
 Called him to follow after as she led 
 Through rooms where amber-perfumed lamps lit up 
 Such splendors as the heart of love-mad king, 
 Straining to image dwelling worthy her 
 Whom he adores, could never dream. 
 
 At last 
 A door of aloe- wood with silver bound, 
 Inlaid with ivory and pearl, and set 
 With turquoise and with coral, barred their way. 
 The damsel pushed it back until he saw 
 A shrine with jewels crusted like a cave; 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 63 
 
 Where, on an altar wrought of beaten brass, 
 There burned a flame, fed with all precious woods 
 And ambergris and spice and frankincense. 
 Then bending her slim neck as in the wind 
 The snowy poppy bends, the damsel bowed 
 In reverence at that shrine. 
 
 Kelabah saw 
 With thrill of horror. 
 
 cc Out, accursed one," 
 He cried, cc who bows to fire ! Can this thin flame 
 Prevent that now I slay thee ? " 
 
 But she turned 
 And looked on him with eyes before whose glow 
 His holy zeal melted as smoke in air. 
 
 " Nay, bear with me, beloved," soft she said. 
 
 " Since all this place is held beneath a spell. 
 
 It is to save thv life that I salute 
 
 This flame; and thou, wouldst thou but join with me 
 
 In adoration, might deliver me, 
 
 And lead me forth from Irem the accursed 
 
 To be thine own forever ! 
 
 But he cried, 
 With kindling cheek and eyes ablaze with wrath : 
 
64 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 "I bow down at this altar ! / revere 
 
 The flame profane ! Allah shall smite thy mouth 
 
 If thou again — " 
 
 But that fair damsel laid 
 Her down-soft fingers on his lip, and hushed 
 The word he would have said. 
 
 " 'Tis as thou wilt," 
 She murmured, cc though it be that my heart break ! 
 Save me or leave me, for thou art my lord, 
 And I am but thine handmaid." 
 
 Limpid tears 
 Swam in her night-black eyes, while bending sad 
 She like a broken tulip drooped ; till he 
 Could not but clasp her in his eager arms, 
 Kissing and comforting. Then tempting him 
 She swayed her rest-destroying body, fair 
 As a rose-tinted pearl, and let her locks, 
 Black as the gloom in wastes beyond Mount Kaf, 
 Fall on his hands, a perfumed cataract ; 
 And sighed, and broke her sighs with choking 
 
 sobs ; 
 And bathed her face in waters of deceit, 
 Beguiling him, and won him till no will 
 He had which was not hers, but yielded all. 
 
65 
 
 THE CITY OF IREM. 
 
 cc O cypress, musk-perfumed/' he cried at last; 
 cc To save thee from this spell there is no deed 
 Which can be evil. If in truth I sin, 
 Allah, who made thee, knows that Paradise 
 Were not too dear a price to buy thy love." 
 
 Then prone before that leaping flame he fell 
 Adoring, while the damsel near him bowed, 
 'Hiding her wicked laughter from his eyes. 
 
 Then springing to her feet, the damsel took 
 
 Kelabah by his hand, and laughing led • 
 
 Adown more corridors, across new halls, 
 
 And through fresh gardens. Never word was born 
 
 In which their beauty might be told ; on earth 
 
 No thing to which they might be likened, since 
 
 Irem was never matched in loveliness. 
 
 And seeing only her whose warm hand thrilled 
 
 His every nerve, Kelabah followed on, 
 
 While down the moon-washed street she hurried him, 
 
 And brought him to the city's gate at last. 
 
 " Thou hast delivered me," she said, her voice 
 Softer than plash of wave on level sands. 
 
 5 
 
66 THE CITY OF IE EM. 
 
 " Since great Sheddad was smitten has my doom 
 
 Held me enchained amid this solitude 
 
 Till one who worshipped Allah should be snared 
 
 By my allurements to adore the flame. 
 
 Thou hast delivered me, and I am thine. 
 
 Oh, my beloved, look upon me now 
 
 In my true shape ; see if I be not fair ! ' 
 
 Speaking, she drew him outward through the gate 
 
 Into the wastes of Aden. Ere his heart 
 
 Could give one throb, in the abyss of night 
 
 Irem had vanished, and as tender rose 
 
 Thrust in a torch's flame shrivels and blights, 
 
 So that fair damsel, even with his arm 
 
 Clasped round her, changed to sudden hideousness. 
 
 Ghastly and old, throated like pelican, 
 
 With gaunt, thin bosom, and gray, weed-like hair, 
 
 Was she who, grinning, to Kelabah clung ; 
 
 As horrible as a foul ghoul which plucks 
 
 Pale corpses limb from limb among the graves 
 
 In feasts unholy. 
 
 Like a wretch who lays 
 His hand upon a leper unawares, 
 Kelabah shrieked, and would have fled, while she, 
 

 THE CITY OF IREM. 6 J 
 
 Frighting the wandering jackals of the waste 
 With laughter harsher than their own, cried out : 
 
 "Am I not thine, Kelabah ? Hast thou not 
 
 To win my beauty bartered Paradise ? 
 
 Kiss me, and take thy joy of my sweet mouth ! ' 
 
 But mad with loathing and with fear he fled, 
 Caring not whither, till at last he fell 
 Headlong upon the sand, and knew no more. 
 
63 THE CITY OF I REM. 
 
 IV 
 
 Dreams horrible as vaporous shapes from hell 
 Crowded Kelabah's sleep, until he felt 
 A touch upon his shoulder, and awoke. 
 
 Long level beams, like bars of beaten gold, 
 
 The rising sun stretched far across the waste ; 
 
 Bathed in its glow the camel-driver bent 
 
 To lift him up. 
 
 cc Aw r ake; arise," he said. 
 
 "All the long night I sought thee through the waste, 
 
 Fearing some evil had befallen thee. 
 
 Arise, and make profession of thy faith ; 
 
 Already ends the hour of morning prayer." 
 
 But prone Kelabah lay, and hid his face, 
 Groaning in shame and anguish. 
 
 {C Nay," he moaned, 
 <c Would I had never waked, for I have sinned 
 Beyond all pardon, and adored the flame. 
 Leave me to perish in the wilderness, 
 Who am unclean, lest Allah smite thee down 
 If thou consortest with the infidel." 
 
THE CITY OF IREM. 69 
 
 But at his side the camel-driver knelt, 
 And lifted him, and said : 
 
 " Be yet of cheer,* 
 For merciful and most compassionate 
 Is Allah. Be thou sure the hand that made 
 Knoweth the weakness of its handiwork ; 
 Pities man's frailty and forgives his sin.. 
 There is no god but Allah; in His name 
 I bid thee rise and pray." 
 
 And in the waste 
 Kelabah bowed his head, while all his pride 
 Fell from him swift as fled the loveliness 
 Of that alluring fiend who tempted him. 
 And thenceforth, evermore remembering 
 Irem, in Allah's sight humble he walked, 
 Till all his life in tender beauty shone 
 With meekness like the lustre of a pearl. 
 

 AHMED. 
 
AHMED. 
 
 A HMED, the slave, painter of tiles, was blessed 
 -^ *■ By Allah with a skill so rare and fine 
 That hardly nature with more cunning laid 
 Her thousand tints on leaf and flower. His brush 
 With such deft mimicry portrayed a rose 
 As to deceive the amorous nightingale ; 
 Under his hand grew such sweet witchery 
 Of bud and bloom, and arabesque, and scroll 
 With text of holy Koran writ thereon, 
 That all men wondered ; so that near and far 
 His work was sought, and that mosque counted rich 
 Whose walls his handiwork adorned. Across 
 His tiles the swift birds darted, bright of hue 
 And full of life as in the skies ; though each 
 Bore on its neck the fatal line which marked 
 It dead ; since " Image of no living thing," 
 
74 AHMED. 
 
 The Prophet hath commanded, " shalt thou make, 
 Lest Allah on the Last Day at thy hand 
 Demand a life to animate this form 
 Of life which thou hast wrought/ 1 
 
 In his rude hut 
 Content dwelt Ahmed in humility, 
 And day by day wrought at his art, nor longed 
 For aught beyond, happy amid his tiles. 
 But man's life changes as the rainbow hues 
 Upon the preening peacock's plumage change; 
 And man's heart is as dust upon the wind, 
 Swept here and there as passion's gusts may blow. 
 Happy lived Ahmed, though he was a slave, 
 Until that day the Cadi's daughter passed, 
 The damsel Elka, with her eyes of light, 
 Kindlers of storm, the torches of desire; 
 Then all his peace and calm melted away 
 As shadows in a sudden sun-burst fade. 
 It was but one swift glimpse behind her veil, 
 Brief as a sigh, yet all eternity 
 By that quick glance was altered. Elka passed, 
 And went by all unheeding, unaware 
 Ahmed had seen her passion-kindling face, 
 
AHMED. 
 
 75 
 
 That all his soul waxed fervent as with flame. 
 To her the slave who painted at his tiles, 
 Though his brush cunning were as nature's own, 
 Was as the grass between the pavement stones, 
 The tuft of basil nodding on the wall, 
 Or any trivial, unregarded thing. 
 
 But Ahmed was no more a slave. His soul 
 
 Sprang up new-born, as one whom Allah calls 
 
 Out of a clod to being. Now for him 
 
 The nightingale sang in the thicket ; now 
 
 For him the rose with perfume drenched the air ; 
 
 Now first for him the sun rose in the morn ; 
 
 And now for him the stars glowed in the skies, 
 
 Bringing the message of eternity. 
 
 His soul was quickened till he understood 
 
 How all things are of love, how love is all. 
 
 The day was eloquent with thoughts of her, 
 
 The night rich with the rapture of its dreams. 
 
 The heaped-up jewels of the dim bazaar, 
 
 The splendors of the morn, the thrills of night, 
 
 The bright hues dabbled by his cunning brush, 
 
 Warmed him with sweet remembrances, which seemed 
 
 Part of her life since they were beautiful. 
 
J 6 AHMED. 
 
 If a chance word of love fell on his ear 
 He seemed to hear her name, and see again 
 Her face behind its veil. The call to prayer 
 Seemed but a cry from the tall minaret 
 That all men do her homage. If one sang, 
 The heart of Ahmed leaped to join the lay 
 And pour its longing forth. 
 
 One song there was 
 He heard the slave girls sing, which evermore 
 Seethed in his blood like potent Shiraz wine : 
 
 The rose as it lies on thy bosom 
 
 Is cradled as light as in air ; 
 The cloud of the midnight tempest 
 
 Is not so black as thine hair; 
 The red of thy cheek's surrender, 
 
 When love overcometh pride, 
 Is like the brown dusk's splendor 
 
 Where sunset hues have died. 
 
 At sound of thy voice, in the thicket 
 The nightingale hideth shamed ; 
 
 Beside the arch of thine eyebrow 
 The crescent moon is blamed. 
 
AHMED. 
 
 As smoke toward heaven ascending 
 Through the still and perfumed air, 
 
 In grace all perfect bending 
 Swayeth thy body fair. 
 
 Yet Allah into His heaven 
 
 Can never let thee come, 
 Lest sight of thy loveliness surely 
 
 Should strike His angels dumb. 
 But not for that I forsake thee ; 
 
 I will follow to nethermost hell , 
 Till Allah for envy shall hate me, 
 
 Because of thy beauty's spell ! 
 
 77 
 
78 
 
 AHMED. 
 
 II 
 
 Then in his passion and his loneliness, 
 
 Mad with the sweet and cruel smart of love, 
 
 In secret Ahmed sinned. With eager brush, 
 
 And all the skill of heart and brain on fire, 
 
 He painted on a slab of ivory 
 
 Elka's fair semblance ; there he imaged forth 
 
 Her cheeks flushed like an apricot ; the brow 
 
 Which from her night of hair gleamed like the moon ; 
 
 The eyes like stars reflected in a pool ; 
 
 Lips like the rainbow arched ; the tender breasts 
 
 Curved like a shoreward wave and white as snows 
 
 On sky-touched Caucasus. But when her neck 
 
 A tower of silver, grew beneath his brush, 
 
 His heart forbade him, and he crossed it not 
 
 With that faint line of death to signify 
 
 That this was image of no living thing. 
 
 The Judgment Day was far and love was near. 
 
 So one Tdv one the days were born and died 
 Like angels born of fire who chant one song 
 In Allah's praise and as a mist-wreath fade. 
 
AHMED. 
 
 79 
 
 Still Ahmed painted at his tiles and dreamed, 
 
 Loving a shadow ; till there came an hour 
 
 He clasped her in his arms and spoke her name. 
 
 It chanced a crowd of camel-drivers thronged 
 
 Hurrying along the street where Ahmed dwelt, 
 
 Glad that the end was come of the long march 
 
 Across the desert in the caravan ; 
 
 And as their beasts, laden with precious bales 
 
 Of silks of Samarcand and gems from far, 
 
 Amber and coral, sandal-oil and spice, 
 
 Turquoise and ambergris and beaten gold, 
 
 Jostled each other in the narrow way, 
 
 The Cadi's daughter and her slave girl passed. 
 
 Painting in characters of sapphire blue 
 
 The Koran's words which praise the Prophet's bride 
 
 Sat Ahmed, when he heard a cry. Some sense 
 
 More keen than reason made him spring to save 
 
 The damsel whom he loved, pressed to the wall 
 
 By the rude travellers. A moment brief 
 
 As a bell's note but sweet as Paradise, 
 
 He clasped her close, and drew her to his hut 
 
 Till the tall camels passed. He felt her heart 
 
 Beat like a netted dove ; but when she drew 
 
80 AHMED. 
 
 Bright sequins from her girdle, he put by 
 The gold she proffered, kissing her robe's hem, 
 While all his being melted with desire. 
 With flame so fierce his passion waxed, it seemed 
 He had not loved till then. He spoke her name, 
 Which blessed his lips as the wild honey-comb, 
 Dripping from crevice of a lonely rock, 
 Refreshes the starved wayfarer. 
 
 That night 
 Around the Cadi's garden, to and fro, 
 He wandered like a restless djinn accursed 
 Outside the walls of Paradise. Within 
 He heard an amorous lute complain, while soft 
 A nightingale broke in upon each pause 
 Till all the dusky night seemed full of love ; 
 And almost Ahmed swooned, remembering not 
 That he was but a slave who painted tiles. 
 
 But on the morrow came a word which fell 
 Like an envenomed dart on Ahmed's soul. 
 The slave of Elka, hurrying on her way 
 To the bazaar, lingered to whisper : 
 
 "Lo, 
 I know thou lovest her, but her slim hands 
 
AHMED. 8 1 
 
 Are henna-stained for marriage. Love her not, 
 And I — am I not fair? — will comfort thee." 
 
 But Ahmed stood amazed, like one struck dumb 
 A breathing space, and then with bitter word 
 Burst forth in rage : 
 
 "Thy breast be spit upon, 
 Foul witch, for this thy lie ! Beyond Mount Kaf 
 Thy bones be strewn, and Eblis have thy soul ! 
 Thou broken potsherd, callest thyself fair, 
 When she, a vase of crystal without flaw, 
 Is named ? " 
 
 The slave girl fled in fear, and cried : 
 
 " This potter curses like a Caliph ! Lo, 
 Who apes the loves of princes apes their wrath. 
 Allah be merciful, but he is mad ! " 
 
82 AHMED. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Long hours Ahmed brooded in his hut 
 Over her picture ; till the sun of noon 
 Made all the thin leaves of the tamarisk 
 Droop with the fervent heat. Then with a cry 
 Of one whose reason flees, he rent his clothes, 
 And ran half naked through the burning streets 
 To Elka's dwelling. Guardiess were the doors, 
 And Ahmed sped into the palace, mad 
 With love and fury. 
 
 All about the court 
 He found them that made ready for the feast, 
 And everywhere the signs of coming joys ; 
 Slaves hasting to and fro with stuffs and robes, 
 And busy merchants coming with their wares, 
 Confectioners and caterers in throngs. 
 
 As a fierce leopard falls on peaceful flocks 
 In Rocnabad, fell Ahmed on the slaves, 
 And flung upon the ground their dainty cates. 
 He trampled in the dust the glowing heaps 
 
AHMED. 8 X 
 
 Of grapes and melons, plums and apricots, 
 
 And heaped pomegranates ; broke the crystal bowls 
 
 Brimming with topaz syrups ; dashed to earth 
 
 The jars of mountain snow which should have cooled 
 
 The bridal sherbets. Shrieks of rage and fear 
 
 Arose in tumult. All the eunuchs fled 
 
 Before his fury, while his bitter wrath 
 
 Blazed ever fiercer till it spent itself 
 
 As a spent flame for want of fuel dies. 
 
 And some cried : cc Lo, a fiend is in him ! " Some : 
 
 if Allah with madness smites him ! " But all fled. 
 
 He turned and ran on blindly, knowing not 
 Whither he went, until he was alone 
 In a dim chamber where the slave girls peered, 
 Huddling with dread outside the curtained door. 
 Then, for that love and madness move to tears, 
 He flung himself on earth and called her name, 
 And wept upon her picture, as one weeps 
 On the beloved's bosom. 
 
 Then in haste 
 There came to Elka her own slave, who loved 
 Ahmed in very truth. 
 
84 AHMED. 
 
 cc Breaker of hearts," 
 She said, "Ahmed, the cunning painter, he 
 Who saved thee from the camels' feet, and whom 
 Allah hath made most beauteous among men, 
 And dowered with skill that all men wonder at, 
 Is mad for love of thee, and through the court, 
 Ravages like a wolf, till all are fled 
 In fear before his face." 
 
 To that dim room 
 Where Ahmed crouched, a miracle of woe, 
 Prating wild words, and with fierce, fevered eyes 
 Gloating upon her image painted fair, 
 Came Elka, all unveiled, with ankle-bells 
 That tinkled as she walked, her beauty rich 
 Like the full moon in its persuasiveness, 
 Her eyes like very stars. She touched his brow 
 With her slim fingers, henna-stained, and looked 
 Into his restless eyes, compassionate, 
 As one who knew and pitied all his woe. 
 And twice her sweet lips parted, ere her voice 
 She could command to speak. 
 
 cc Alas ! " she said, 
 " There is no god but Allah ; in His name 
 
AHMED 85 
 
 Be peace to Ahmed. In the Judgment Day 
 When Allah bids thee to mine image here, 
 Which thou hast made, give life and breath at last, 
 How wilt thou answer, Ahmed ? " 
 
 Straight there fell 
 A silence in his whirling brain, a calm 
 Which seemed to pierce his madness through as strikes 
 The sun through mists. He grovelled in the dust, 
 Embracing her small feet, whose instep's arch 
 Sprang like the city gate. 
 
 c< In Allah's name 
 Be peace to thee," he said, "and bridal joy 
 Beyond all measure. Surely I have sinned; 
 And rashly raised a slave's eyes to thy face. 
 But, for this image of thy loveliness, 
 I give my own life that it lack not breath 
 In that great Day of Resurrection ; yield 
 My very soul to be its spirit." 
 
 Thus 
 He spoke, his madness gone, and looked on her 
 As one looks back on a lost Paradise ; 
 
86 AHMED. 
 
 Then left her there alone, bathed in her tears. 
 And np man looked on Ahmed more, or knew 
 How he invoked the sword of Azrael. 
 
 But when at the Last Day Allah shall call 
 All beings that have life before His bar, 
 There will two Elkas be, but in all space 
 Nowhere Ahmed, the slave, painter of tiles. 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 I 
 
 DEAR to the Caliph was the gift of song. 
 Of all the joys which minister delight 
 There was none, save love only, which he prized 
 Above the poet's art. More than in gold 
 Or in the hoarded jewels heaped to burn 
 Like smouldering fires in his treasure-house, 
 He joyed in precious verse ; and welcome still 
 Minstrel and poet ever were to him 
 As to the caravan the desert well. 
 Who could command his art with cunning skill 
 And melt beguiling measures into song, 
 Might ask the Caliph whatsoe'er he would 
 And win a rich reward. Justice might fail, 
 And wrongs be cried in vain before his throne ; 
 But when the poet's soft persuasiveness 
 Besieged the Caliph's ear, it could not fail 
 To win its suit. 
 
90 THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 It chanced one summer day 
 When stretched amid his silken cushions, prone 
 In sloth luxurious the Caliph yawned, 
 Wearied of dancing-girls, and vexed at heart 
 With the insatiable, dull weariness 
 Of full satiety, there came a slave 
 With word of an Arabian, who would fain 
 Caress the Caliph's ear with story wrought 
 Into a poem. 
 
 " By the Prophet's beard," 
 The Caliph said, cc in good time is he come. 
 Let him be brought, and if his skill avail 
 To kill the tedium of this weary hour, 
 His weight in gold dinars shall pay his song." 
 
 So was the young Arabian ushered in ; 
 Straight as a date-palm of the wilderness, 
 Lithe as a leopard, sinewy as a wolf, 
 With eyes like drops of myrrh which liquid gush, 
 Goldenly brown, from the bruised tree, he stood 
 Before the Caliph, his prostrations made, 
 Waiting command to speak. 
 
 " Whence dost thou come ? ' 
 The Caliph questioned ; " and how art thou called ? ' 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 " Commander of the Faithful," said the youth, 
 cc In Cufa, where I dwell, thy servant's name 
 Is Hassan called. Will my most gracious lord 
 Have patience with his slave while I recite 
 This poem I have made, as one might weave 
 A basket out of rushes that it serve 
 To bear sweet blossoms unto her he loves ? — 
 Since so these verses bear my reverence 
 Unto my gracious lord." 
 
 " Say on," with smile 
 The Caliph answered. "As thy mistress' self 
 Smelling the fragrance of thy flowers rush-bound 
 In all complaisance will we hear." 
 
 A light 
 Flashed up in Hassan's eyes, the look of one 
 Who stakes his all in hope, and sees the prize 
 Already in his grasp. He waited not 
 For further word, but with firm, winning voice, 
 Softened to music in the rhythmic verse, 
 Began his tale. As waters gurgling flow 
 Poured from a vase of alabaster, clear 
 The liquid, interlacing syllables 
 Of that lay fell, sense married unto sound 
 
 91 
 
92 
 
 THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 As threads of silk intwine with strands of gold 
 When cunning workmen weave brocades of Roum. 
 
 And the lay told how in a lovely vale, 
 
 Set 'round with wild chinar-trees, lined with turf 
 
 As a lark's nest with down, and gemmed with flowers 
 
 Thick as the sparkles on the sea, there dwelt 
 
 A maid tender and fair as a babe's eyes, 
 
 Pure as a dewdrop in a lupin leaf, 
 
 And sweeter than the songs of Paradise. 
 
 As the moon brings the dew, so she brought love 
 
 Unto all hearts, and where Zuleika came 
 
 Her beauty and her goodness lustre shed 
 
 As spring wakes buds to bloom, and gentle rain 
 
 Brings life to the parched earth, weary with drought. 
 
 All men desired her, but her true heart 
 
 Was given to a shepherd, who with song 
 
 Had wooed her in the long, sweet afternoons, 
 
 And dusky eves when fire-flies, as thick 
 
 As golden motes which dance in the long beams 
 
 Of sunset, flashed amid the camphor-trees. 
 
 Then of their love the poet told, while tears 
 Swam in his eyes, as he himself had known 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 93 
 
 The ecstasy of her affection. One 
 
 In heart and soul were they, bound in fond ties 
 
 Even before her fingers, henna-stained, 
 
 Were clasped by him her spouse. The poet's voice 
 
 Dropped low, like that of one remembering 
 
 Some precious past, as he recalled a song 
 
 The shepherd sang his love forbidding doubt : 
 
 • 
 
 " Oh, can night doubt its star, the dawn its sun ? 
 Can rivers doubt the sea to which thev run ? 
 No more canst thou doubt me, heart's dearest one ! 
 Doubt is the darkness, love the light ; 
 
 Doubt is the night, and love the day ; 
 Doubt is this earth which takes its flight; 
 But love is Heaven that lasts alway ! ' 
 
 And the tale told how in that vale they lived, 
 Joying in one another, till ill chance 
 Brought thither Cufa's governor ; and how 
 He strove to win Zuleika's love with arts 
 Of wicked guile; and tempted her true heart 
 With proffered gifts, and dazzling promises, 
 But could not touch her faith or shake her love. 
 
94 THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 And how he fell upon that peaceful vale 
 
 As falls a falcon fierce upon a nest 
 
 Of half-fledged, helpless nightingales, and bore 
 
 Zuleika, ravished from her husband's arms, 
 
 To be a gem for his own wearing. 
 
 Soft 
 With tender words the poet told the woe 
 Of that sad shepherd who was thus bereft ; 
 Then turning his smooth verse with cunning art 
 Into a strain which like war's clarions rang, 
 He breathed the panting rage came next ; the mad, 
 Wild passion to avenge that bitter wrong. 
 Then with long plaintive syllables, the lay, 
 In cadences which fell like scalding tears, 
 Painted the awful blackness of despair 
 Which came upon the shepherd, seeing might 
 Triumphant raised above his weakness' reach. 
 
 The Caliph felt his own eyes over-brim ; 
 Forgot his snow-cooled sherbet, pink with juice 
 Of sweet pomegranates, as he eager leaned 
 More close to catch the poet's every word ; 
 And hung upon the lay as if the tale 
 Voiced his own woe. 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 95 
 
 Then as a lute-player 
 Hushes his strings' complaint lest all too keen 
 The anguish of the strain, the poet changed, 
 And told how on that night of sorrow rose 
 A star of hope. There came a messenger 
 From lost Zuleika, saying : tc Faithful still, 
 I yet am thine, and scorn the Cadi's love. 
 Fly to the Caliph ; help is his alone. 
 Beseech him that he right this heinous wrong, 
 And save and give me to thine arms again 1 " 
 Then, knowing that the Caliph is as God, 
 Gracious and strong and most compassionate, 
 That, lover-spouse bereft, with eager feet 
 Unto the Caliph hasted, in his ear 
 Pouring the story of his grief, with cry 
 For help and succor in his piteous need. 
 
 The poet ceased, and so full silence fell 
 They heard the doves, in the still afternoon, 
 Croon in the court without. The Caliph sat 
 Upright among the silken cushions strewn 
 On the divan unheeded. 
 
 "What is next?" 
 He cried. " What said the Caliph ? " 
 
96 THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 At his feet 
 The poet knelt. 
 
 " The rest is as thou wilt, 
 And as thou doest," was his pleading cry. 
 £< O lord of all men, this is mine own wrong; 
 And no help have I if thou wilt not hear. 
 A captive in the Cadi's hand is she 
 Who is my wife and love ; who is my all. 
 Save her and me, in Allah's gracious name ! ' 
 
 " Now by the Prophet's beard ! ' the Caliph cried ; 
 " Thy lay hath won this boon. This very hour 
 Shall messengers depart for Cufa, swift 
 To bring again thy wife." 
 
 And at his word 
 Hassan fell prone, swooning for very joy. 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 97 
 
 II 
 
 111 brooks the Caliph that which thwarts his will ; 
 And wroth was he when back his couriers came. 
 Saying : 
 
 "Commander of the Faithful, lo, 
 The Cadi is enamoured of his prize 
 Even to madness. All he hath and is, 
 His wealth and life alike, he gives to buy 
 Her dear companionship for six short moons, 
 Although she loves him not." 
 
 cc Now by mine eyes ! " 
 The Caliph cried in furious anger, cc sure 
 This rebel sends me not such answer twice. 
 Bring me this woman and the Cadi's head." 
 
 But when they went to do his will, he looked 
 On Hassan musing, murmuring in his beard : 
 
 " What is this woman that six moons with her, 
 Even without her love, is worth a life ? 
 Perchance the praises which this poet sung 
 
THE WIFE OF HA. 
 
 T \Vere not all empty words, strung down his lay 
 Like pearls in a maid's hair." 
 
 And vexed was he 
 At every lagging moment till she came : 
 While Hassan joyed that vengeance thus should fall 
 On him who tore Zuleika from his arms, 
 And glowed with bliss that she should come again. 
 
 The night swallowed the day, and bounteously 
 Allah a new day gave, and gave again ; 
 And with the third day came the messengers. 
 Bearing a ghastly head stained black with blood, 
 And Hassan's wife, for whose sweet sake the sword 
 Had shorn it from the Cadi. 
 
 Tall was she, 
 Fair as Zohara, who at Babel snared 
 The angels to their fall. In her lone vale 
 Had waxed her beauty till it smote like fate, 
 As the chinar-tree springs to maje: 
 Even in arid wastes. She came unveiled, 
 As Arab women use, and her dark eyes 
 Like clash of cymbals woke the Caliph's heart. 
 But when she spoke, her voice so exquisite, 
 Shaming the lute to modes of sadness tuned, 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 99 
 
 Melted the heart more than her loveliness ; 
 While yet the wisdom of her witching tongue. 
 Her playful sorcery of wit, surpassed 
 The melody of her sweet voice. 
 
 No more 
 The black-eyed damsels, moons of love, 
 Who ministered to his delight, and bent 
 As graceful in the dance as rushes bend 
 When wakes the night wind, to the Caliph seemed 
 Fair among women. Her melodious voice 
 Made harsh their singing ; while their babbled words 
 Were as the dry cicada's teasing note 
 After her eloquence. Love's fever burned 
 In all his veins, till even Paradise 
 With all its houris tempted him no more. 
 
 Three days he fought his passion, keeping her 
 Apart from Hassan ; then he could no more; 
 But spoke hot words of love, and bade her cast 
 Her shepherd spouse aside, to reign with him. 
 
 " My power and state," he vowed, " all that I have 
 Shall be thine own no less than it is mine. 
 Thou hast ensnared my heart ; I have and am 
 
IOO THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 Nothing which is not thine. Thine eyes for me 
 Are like the wells of Paradise ; thy voice 
 Sweeter than flute-note or the dulcimer 
 Whose strings are smit by amorous Indian maid ; 
 Thy bosom's swell tears my heart from me ; sighs 
 Of longing love consume my panting breath 
 When thou art nigh ! " 
 
 But fair Zuleika raised 
 Her glance to his, and catching up a lute 
 Which lay on the divan, sang to him thus : 
 
 "The rose on love's bosom may lie, 
 
 But who would the pimpernel wear ? 
 The pearl with the ruby may vie, 
 
 But who for the dewdrop doth care ? 
 I am naught but the dewdrop which flows, 
 
 I am naught but the pimpernel mean ; 
 Take thy joy of the pearl and the rose; 
 
 Let the pimpernel wither unseen." 
 
 But he broke in upon her song, and cried : 
 
 fC Nay; but the sun seeks out the pimpernel, 
 And drinks the dew ; as I must make thee mine! 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. IOI 
 
 Hear me, Zuleika ; shall thy beauty be 
 Hid in the desert ? All thy dainty wit 
 Be spent on senseless ears ; thy days go by 
 In tedious weaving goat's hair for the tents, 
 In making cheeses out of camel's milk, 
 And all the petty toils of slave girls rude ? 
 Leave these things for a kingdom ; help me rule ; 
 And I will be thy slave no less than lord." 
 
 But she drew back, and bent, and answered him : 
 
 " Commander of the Faithful, mock me not, 
 Making in jest a trial of my faith/' 
 
 " Nay, by the Prophet's beard," the Caliph swore, 
 " I jest not. Think what I can offer thee, 
 And cleave not to this shepherd. All the joys 
 Of Paradise shall on this earth be thine." 
 
 " And after earth," she said, "shall still the joys 
 Of Paradise be mine ? Do not this sin 
 Lest Allah smite thee ! " 
 
 Then with sudden tears, 
 She fell down at the Caliph's feet, and cried : 
 
102 THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 "Have mercy, O thou lord of life, and spare; 
 For thy handmaiden loveth him ! For me 
 There is no man on earth save Hassan. Life 
 Is life no longer if I be not his. 
 His heart and mine are one. His faith in me 
 Is as his trust in Allah." 
 
 " Now, then, nay ; " 
 The Caliph scoffed ; "for never was man's faith 
 In woman like her faith in man. Prove him ; 
 And if he doubt thee not on my bare word 
 I yield thee to him." 
 
 Up Zuleika sprang, 
 Splendid in pride and trust ; and raised her hand 
 As a lark flies to heaven. 
 
 " Now if he doubt 
 For one brief heart-beat ; if indeed so much 
 As his glance falter, I will be thy slave 
 Till Asrael smite me." 
 
 So the proof to make 
 The Caliph summoned Hassan, sore at heart 
 Because Zuleika was kept from him. 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. IO3 
 
 " Thou," 
 The Caliph said, cc who lov'st Zuleika well. 
 And need'st must wish her well, canst but rejoice 
 That she henceforth is queen, to share with me 
 My wealth and throne. She sends thee her farewell ; 
 And bids thee ask what precious boon thou wilt, 
 Slave girls or gold or camels, to take back 
 As proof of her remembrance to thy vale." 
 
 But Hassan stood erect with folded arms, 
 And looked into the Caliph's face unmoved. 
 
 <c It is a lie," he said. " Thou couldst constrain 
 Zuleika' s body, but her heart is mine, 
 Changeless and faithful till the Judgment Day." 
 
 And from behind the curtain where she hid, 
 
 Zuleika burst in haste, and flung herself 
 
 At Hassan's feet, kissing them while for joy 
 
 She wept and laughed at once. She raised her hands 
 
 To heaven and to the Caliph, crying still : 
 
 "Allah is witness that he did not doubt ! " 
 
104 THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 The dark blood stained the Caliph's cheek, while rage 
 Flashed in his eyes as when the lightning plays 
 Around the icy cone of Demavend. 
 
 " I still am Caliph," in his heart he said. 
 "What hinders me from having Hassan slain, 
 That so Zuleika, spite of all, be mine ? " 
 
 But she, guessing the thought was in his mind, 
 Turned upon him her star-bright eyes, and said : 
 
 "Yet Allah knoweth had he dgubted, death 
 Had been Zuleika's refuge ; not the arms 
 Of any other man upon the earth/' 
 
 An instant their two glances met like those 
 Of two fierce falcons. Then he turned aside 
 As if he dared not look on her again. 
 " Go ! " was his only word. 
 
 And they went forth, 
 Back to the solitude of that fair vale, 
 Wrapt in the sweet contentment of their love. 
 
 Then after them the lonely Caliph sent 
 A tall white camel, laden with rich bales 
 
THE WIFE OF HASSAN. 
 
 Of precious stuffs, that beauty such as hers 
 Lack not fit setting ; but in Hassan's eyes 
 Zuleika's loveliness had little need 
 Of stuffs or pearls ; her faithfulness and love 
 To him were gems of worth surpassing far 
 The richest jewels in the Caliph's store. 
 
 105 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL 
 RASCHID. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 I 
 
 AL MOHDI, father of the great Haroun, 
 Lay dying in his tent at Masabdan ; 
 And longed and prayed amid his burning pangs, 
 That he might see his son before he died. 
 
 Best of his sons Al Mohdi loved Haroun ; 
 And schemed how he might give to him the throne 
 Which right gave to Al Hadi, elder born. 
 Three times he had sent trusty messengers 
 Unto Haroun, praying him come with speed, 
 That they might plot together; but Haroun 
 Would not. 
 
 " Al Hadi's is the throne," he said. 
 cc Allah, who sent him first into the world, 
 Gave him to wear the crown, and me has made 
 His subject and his brother. Not for me 
 
HO THE RIXG OF HAROUX AL RASCHID. 
 
 A stolen throne, where one shall shameless sit, 
 Tainted with reek of a slain brother's blood, 
 A living lie in Allah's sight and man's." 
 
 Then was Al Mohdi grieved to very heart, 
 Nor could he rest ; but he must needs set forth, 
 Hastening to find Haroun, and wake in him 
 Ambition's greedv avarice of power. 
 But there in Masabdan lay treacherous death 
 In ambush in his way, and smote him down. 
 
 Two damsels, moons of love, the Caliph took 
 
 To cheer his journev. Both the slaves were fair, 
 
 Provoking love, beguiling amorous eyes, 
 
 And both were dear unto Al Mohdi's heart; 
 
 But better loved he Fatima, a girl 
 
 Whose dark eyes first had blessed the light of day 
 
 In a fair valley of Cashmere. Her lips 
 
 Had caught the music of the waterfall 
 
 Whose tinkling murmur lulled her cradled sleep, 
 
 A rose-lipped baby in her father's hut ; 
 
 And to the Caliph her melodious voice 
 
 Was sweeter than the fluting of soft pipes 
 
 That all his soul subdued to her dear will. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. I I I 
 
 But Hasana, her fellow-slave, at heart 
 
 Hated fair Fatima with jealousy 
 
 Remorseless as a flame, yet cunning hid 
 
 Her hate under affection's guise, and praised 
 
 The Caliph's choice when he heaped priceless gifts 
 
 On her he loved ; while still her bitter heart 
 
 Lay like an ambushed snake, waiting the time 
 
 When it might spring and strike. Thus it befell 
 
 That there in Masabdan she smiling gave 
 
 To Fatima a poisoned apricot, 
 
 So fair, so fragrant, and so melting ripe 
 
 That hardly could the eager mouth refrain 
 
 From tasting its seductive juiciness. 
 
 But Fatima into the Caliph's hand 
 
 Yielded the gift, that here in Masabdan 
 
 Its fragrance and its savor bring to mind 
 
 His gardens in far Bagdad; and she sat 
 
 Beside him singing lightly while he ate 
 
 The luscious, spicy sweetness of the fruit : 
 
 " Love 's like a summer rose 
 Whose fragrant buds unclose; 
 But ah, how soon it goes, 
 Fading and wasting ! 
 
112 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 . Fallen its petals lie, 
 Quickly to fade and die, — 
 Thus do love's pleasures fly, 
 Lost in the tasting. 
 
 "Yet as new roses blow, 
 As fresher fountains flow, 
 So will new raptures glow, 
 
 New joys delight thee; 
 Lips that entreating press, 
 Arms warm in soft caress, 
 Bosoms of loveliness, 
 
 To bliss invite thee. 
 
 " Is not the new love fair ? 
 Why for the old despair? 
 As song dies on the air 
 
 So love is fleeting. 
 Why then the past regret ? 
 Pleasure remaineth yet ; 
 Love only and forget 
 
 Memory's entreating ! " 
 
 And even as she sang the dart of death 
 Struck down the Caliph, taken in the snare 
 False Hasana had spread for Fatima. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. I 13 
 
 Three days and nights Al Mohdi fought with death, 
 While couriers fleet-footed sped like men 
 In terror of their lives to bring Haroun. 
 
 Swift as a meteor which flashes down 
 Brief past the steadfast stars, onward Haroun 
 Rode through chill, shivering night, through burn- 
 ing day. 
 His Arab barb like death's dark angel flew, 
 Great clots of angry foam clogging his bit 
 And spattering his black breast ; his panting sides 
 Flayed with remorseless spurs ; his nostril-pits 
 Swimming with blood ; his red eyes mad with pain. 
 The couriers were lost to sight behind ; 
 The villages fell from the way like beads 
 Dropped from a runner's broken rosary ; 
 And still Haroun urged on his horse, whose feet 
 Devoured the way as flame consumes the straw ; 
 Till as the third day died on Masabdan, 
 Before the Caliph's tent the steed fell stark, 
 And, heeding not, Haroun entered in haste 
 To kneel with death beside his father's bed. 
 
 In the tent's dusky gloom the Caliph's eyes 
 
 Shone like Some tiger's tracked to her dim lair 
 
 8 
 
I 14 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Who fights above her cubs, fierceness and love 
 Blazing within them as he raised his head 
 And looked upon Haroun. 
 
 cc At last," he cried, 
 £C At last, thanks be to Allah, thou art come. 
 It is for thee that I set forth, and met 
 Death in the way ; but thou at least shalt reign ! ' 
 
 " There is no god but Allah," said Haroun; 
 cc Him do I fear, and Him do I obey." 
 
 Nor lest he vex the dying would deny 
 That which lay nearest to the Caliph's heart, 
 Although he would not do this wickedness. 
 
 From his wan, nerveless finger, where the damp 
 
 Of death already gathered cold, Al Mohdi drew 
 
 His signet ring, a ruby beyond price 
 
 That might have graced the crown of great Djamschid, 
 
 A well of living fires, whereon was graved 
 
 With perfect art the words which were his seal : 
 
 cc Allah sufficeth me." A camel's load 
 
 Of gold dinars were but a petty part 
 
 Of that ring's worth, the kingdom's richest gem. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 115 
 
 "This is the sign," murmured his ashen lips, 
 "Of my unbounded love, which yearns to thee, 
 And of thy sovereignty. Wear it, O son, 
 For my sake and thine own, till Asrael come 
 To bring thee to my side in Paradise ; 
 Then yield it to thine heir." 
 
 And when the ring, 
 Red as the life-blood of a hero's heart, 
 Slipped on the finger of Haroun, one sigh 
 The Caliph gave, and died out of his pain. 
 
Il6 THE R1XG OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 II 
 
 Soon as the wailing cry of Fatima 
 
 Told those without that death had claimed her lord, 
 
 In haste the nobles gathered, eager each 
 
 To be the first to show his loyal zeal, 
 
 And greet Haroun as Caliph. 
 
 " Hail," they cried, 
 "Commander of the Faithful ! Let us know 
 What is thy will." 
 
 But he put from his lips 
 The sweet cup of their homage. 
 
 "Not to me," 
 He answered, "falls the throne. Now swear we all 
 xlllegiance to Al Hadi." 
 
 And he sent 
 Fleet messengers to bear his brother word, 
 Calling him to the crown ; and rested not 
 Until Al Hadi wore the sacred sword, 
 And sat upon his father's throne. 
 
 And first 
 A\ Hadi hid the hatred in his heart, 
 Feigning to love Haroun. But use of power 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN A I R AS CHID. 117 
 
 Begot indifference to such disguise ; 
 
 For all men praised the Caliph, till he went 
 
 Clad in the garment of men's glances, fed 
 
 On honey of applause, drank the strong wine 
 
 Of flattery, and felt himself a god. 
 
 Then frowningly he looked upon Haroun ; 
 
 And all the courtiers from the younger turned 
 
 As bees forsake a jasmine struck with blight; 
 
 Till as the moon waned to a silver thread 
 
 Haroun walked, wearing still Al Mohdi's ring. 
 
 But ever envy dwells in courts of kings, 
 And sycophants like flies round honey swarm, 
 And malice buzz continually, and fill 
 A king's ears with a thousand treacherous hints ; 
 Still bent on thrusting others down, that thus 
 They may themselves stand higher. So there came 
 One to Al Hadi on a certain day, 
 And said : 
 
 "Commander of the Faithful, lo, 
 Lord of the world art thou, and yet the ring 
 Which is the signet of that sovereignty 
 Thy brother wears : — that ruby beyond price 
 Which all the wide world over is not matched ; 
 
I I 8 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 That gem of sorcery which in its spell 
 
 Holds might to set up thrones and cast them down." 
 
 And with dark hints whose sinister design 
 
 Flashed as the quick, small lightnings come and go 
 
 When storm clouds gather, in his ear they poured 
 
 The story of Al Mohdi's love, and how 
 
 A sorcerer had to Al Mohdi sworn 
 
 That he who wore that ring should some day reign ; 
 
 Till the new Caliph, mindful now no more 
 
 How on his head Haroun had set the crown, 
 
 And thinking of the son should be his heir, 
 
 Grew sick with jealousy, and heard their words 
 
 With the quick ears of hate. 
 
 "Find this Haroun, ,, 
 He gave command ; "and bring me back the ring." 
 
 Then straightway officers set forth to do 
 
 His bidding. Searching long, at last they found 
 
 Haroun, who mused upon a bridge which spanned 
 
 The Tigris, leaning on the parapet, 
 
 Watching the day and eve together melt 
 
 As bride and groom meet in a fond embrace. 
 
 Smooth lay the river as an infant's cheek ; 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. I 1 9 
 
 The sun was gone, and all the shimmering sky- 
 Flushed with the roseate hues in which it died 
 As reddens the bride's face before her lord. 
 The new moon faintly glimmered, and the sails 
 Of a black boat belated down the tide 
 Stretched their white shadow; while the evening star, 
 As if dissolving in the golden haze, 
 Dropped down behind the world. 
 
 Wrapped was Haroun 
 In brooding fancies, till he heeded not 
 How waxed or waned the restless world of men ; 
 While they saluted with scant courtesy 
 As courtier metes to one from whom withdraws 
 The royal favor. 
 
 " Prince Haroun," they said, 
 " The Caliph bids us bring that signet ring 
 A wizard gave thy father to ensure 
 His royal state." 
 
 As if he heard them not 
 Haroun still watched the river, where red gleams 
 From the red clouds fell like spent embers, tossed 
 From wavelet on to wavelet till devoured 
 By lurking shadows. And again they spoke, 
 And yet again, while still he answered not; 
 
120 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 But when at last they dared some dastard hint 
 Of their lord's power to take that which he would, 
 He turned and faced them as a lion turns 
 To front a jackal with consuming scorn. 
 
 £C Go say unto the Caliph that the ring 
 My father's fingers, faltering with death, 
 Felt blindly with cold touch to put on mine, 
 No other man wears while I live. Tell him 
 Whom I myself set on his throne, that thus 
 I answer the demand which should have shamed 
 Either the Caliph or the brother. See ! " 
 
 And as he spoke he plucked the signet off, 
 
 And flung it flashing in the dying light 
 
 As if it were a crimson fleck let fall 
 
 From thered sky, that dropped and sank down quenched 
 
 Into the bosom of the river; while 
 
 The Tigris flowed on smoothly, all unmoved 
 
 To bear the burden of one secret more. 
 
THE RIXG OF HAROUX AL RASCHID. 121 
 
 III 
 
 Then hatred festered in the Caliph's heart, 
 While yet he dared not hurt Haroun, so well 
 The people loved him ; but henceforth the prince, 
 Shunning the court and frowns hid in false smiles 
 Like poisoned blade in jewel-broidered sheath, 
 Walked the dim byways of retirement. 
 
 Once, on a day the stars marked fortunate, 
 Haroun hunted the antelope, and came 
 In the hot afternoon, parched with sharp thirst, 
 To shade of date-palms clustered round a spring. 
 And as he reined his horse, bidding a slave 
 Fill from the well his golden cup, there flew 
 From feathery bough a falcon yellow-eyed 
 To perch upon his wrist. Amazed Haroun 
 Looked on the bird, whose glossy neck was ringed 
 With golden collar turquoise-set. 
 
 cc Some lord," 
 He said, <c goes seeking thee, fair falcon. None 
 Of all my hawks match thee in beauty fierce, 
 Save only one proud bird from Ispahan." 
 
122 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Speaking, he stretched his hand out for the cup 
 A slave brought brimming from the palm-fringed well ; 
 When that strong falcon, with quick fluttering wings, 
 Fell on the cup, and dashed it from his hand. 
 
 cc Nay, fro ward ranger," cried Haroun ; " forbear ! 
 Who taught thee that thou dealest with a prince 
 So favorless none fear to do him spite ? " 
 
 But thrice the cup was filled, and thrice again 
 The falcon beat it empty from his grasp 
 Before the hunter's parching lip could taste 
 A single cooling drop. 
 
 cc Now by mine eyes ! " 
 Haroun cried ; Cf patience poured on thee is lost 
 Like water wasted on the desert sand." 
 
 And with one angry sweep of his keen sword 
 He slew the noble hawk ; but ere his hand 
 Could thrust the blade back in its sheath 
 His look fell on a damsel who advanced 
 Between the palm trees as an arrow flies 
 Straight to its mark. She was a pearl of maids, 
 So fair his heart burst into flame of love 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. \2$ 
 
 Soon as his eyes beheld her beauteous face. 
 As straight and slender as a minaret 
 But supple as a reed which in the wind 
 Bends as it swaying waves in melting curves, 
 She walked, until she stood beside Haroun. 
 
 " Now was it nobly done, my lord," she said, 
 " To slay the falcon that had trusted thee ? 
 Surely a hero would not wrong the faith 
 The helpless stayed on him ; and this poor bird 
 Had done thee service." 
 
 On Haroun's swart cheek 
 The flush of anger faded, while his gaze 
 Was eloquent as verse of Hafiz. 
 
 "Nay," 
 He said, " O moon of beauty; yet all men 
 May smite a traitor. I had cherished him 
 But that he dashed my cup down when with thirst 
 I perish here." 
 
 "Bid now thy servants see," 
 The damsel answered, "what lies in the well." 
 
 She drew a step back, and with scornful eyes 
 Stood waiting till the frightened slaves made search, 
 
124 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 And came again to fall down at his feet, 
 Crying : 
 
 " O lord and master, pardon ! Lo, 
 Hid in the well a mangled serpent lies, 
 Whose venom taints the water." 
 
 " O rash prince, 
 O prince ungrateful," that fair damsel said, 
 " Had not my falcon better watched thy life 
 Than these thv slaves, thou wert in Paradise ! ' 
 
 " There is no god but Allah," swift Haroun 
 Made answer; "and in Paradise I am 
 Since I am where thou art, O houri-faced, — 
 Who cannot but be one of those sweet maids 
 Whom Allah gives to heroes after death." 
 
 "My lord," she answered, cc I am but a maid 
 Of humble hill folk; my dead father's hawk 
 Flew from my hand as I stood by my tent, 
 And led me, following, down into the plain 
 To meet my lord, that so this bird was slain, 
 And I left falconless." 
 
 <c Nay," said Haroun, 
 " Take of my hawks the finest, even this, 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 125 
 
 The falcon beyond price, with breast of snow 
 And eyes of fire, brought from far Ispahan. 
 Tell me thy name, I pray thee, peri-eyed, 
 That when men ask who is the fairest maid 
 Of all earth's daughters, I may make reply." 
 
 " Thy hand-maid is Siatrah called," she said, 
 
 Her voice as soft as crooning of the dove 
 
 When first her nestlings burst the shell. " Behold, 
 
 Fierce are the fervors of the afternoon, 
 
 And my lord thirsts. Ride but to yonder hill, 
 
 And there be tents for shelter from the sun, 
 
 And sherbets cooled with snow." 
 
 So to the hills 
 
 Haroun rode with his train, and in her tent, 
 
 Reclining on fair cushions, soft as clouds, 
 
 Drank sherbets icy cool, but deeper draughts 
 
 Of the hot wine of love. To her sweet lute, 
 
 From which the notes dropped as the liquid myrrh 
 
 Drips from the wounded tree-trunk, low she sang, 
 
 While her large eyes beseeching seemed to plead 
 
 Forgiveness for the boldness of her song : 
 
 "With eyes of fire the falcon flew, 
 
 To dash the poison from his hand ; 
 
126 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 The guerdon of that service true. 
 
 Was the swift death-stroke of his brand. 
 Ah, hapless bird, who can deny 
 That love's last proof is still to die ! 
 
 "The maid to save her falcon sped, 
 
 And heard his words of honeyed phrase^ 
 Like drops of fragrant balsam shed, 
 
 Or wooing warbler's melting lays. 
 Ah, maid, beware! All prayers deny; 
 Lest love call thee in proof to die ! ' 
 
 " Now, nay," Haroun cried ; cc trust thou nought save 
 
 love ! 
 Love is not love that does not long to serve. 
 Love shall defend thee, whoso would assail ; 
 Love be thy slave to do thy lightest hest ; 
 Love shall be stanch even in face of death ; 
 And love attend thy way to Paradise ! ' 
 
 Then from her slender hand he caught the lute, 
 And sang, his looks with longing eloquent: 
 
 cc As in waves beyond number the sea 
 Beats still in immortal unrest, 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS 'CHID. 12 J 
 
 So ever with yearning for thee, 
 
 The swelling heart throbs in my breast. 
 
 cc As the moon keeps its course all unmoved 
 However the ocean may sway, 
 So thou, with thy heart yet unproved, 
 Goest calm on thy beauteous way. 
 
 cc O thou moon of desire, on me 
 
 With kindlier glance look thou down ; 
 Draw me up like a flame unto thee, 
 
 Let my soul in thy radiance drown ! " 
 
 Thus through the brief-long moments wonderful 
 They held bewitching converse, while the day 
 Waned down the west until the sunset flamed 
 With crimson fires, like rubies beyond price 
 Spilled from the hand of some affrighted djinn 
 In frantic flight for life. Then through the dusk, 
 Fragrant with camphor scents and breath of rose, 
 And laced with luscious songs of nightingales 
 Like a fair mead with silver streams, Haroun 
 Rode back to Bagdad, — but without his heart ! 
 
128 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 IV 
 
 Thenceforward well the courser of Haroun 
 
 Knew the road to Siatrah's dwelling. Fleet 
 
 As her slain falcon sped he on his way, 
 
 Swift as the wind, while yet Haroun's fond thought 
 
 Outsped him in his flight. Great was the love 
 
 Between Siatrah and Haroun ; so great 
 
 It justified all woes that earth has known. 
 
 Their hearts like twin drops melted into one, 
 
 While joy filled their souls full as sunlight fills 
 
 The golden globes of dew when morning breaks. 
 
 But who is loved by one is loved by two ; 
 And she whom one desires stirs other hearts. 
 Fairest of all the daughters of her race, 
 Radiant in her world-troubling loveliness, 
 Siatrah walked, while measureless desire 
 Burned in the breast of whoso looked on her. 
 No man beheld her but to be her slave, 
 No youth of all the hill-folk but adored, 
 Though none save one dare lift his eyes in hope 
 Up to her height of peerless queenliness. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. I 29 
 
 Warrior and chieftain of the tribe, Kareem 
 
 Was like a star of fire in cloud-strewn skies, 
 
 Baleful and red, of presage sinister, 
 
 Bodeful of tempests and world-sweeping wars. 
 
 Long had he loved Siatrah. She alone 
 
 Could tame his fierceness though she mocked his love 
 
 With teasing word and witchery of smiles 
 
 Which bound him faster still in the meshed net 
 
 Of her enchantments. 
 
 Wroth to madness waxed 
 Kareem when all the gossips of the tribe 
 Chattered of the hot wooing of Haroun. 
 Some while his rage smouldered like hidden coals 
 Under heaped ashes ; then at last broke forth 
 As when the night wind blows among the tents 
 And fans to life the embers seeming dead. 
 His pleading to Siatrah ran to waste 
 Like water poured in vessels bottomless. 
 Ever she met his prayers with one same word : 
 
 Cf Since every other damsel of our tribe 
 
 Waits like fruit over-ripe thy plucking hand, 
 
 Why fret thy heart with wasted love for me ? 
 
 9 
 
I 30 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Thou wast kind to my father, O Kareem; 
 Therefore I pray let no unfriendliness 
 Between us wrong his memory ; but since 
 Allah hath left my heart of love for thee 
 Barren as is the desert of the rose, 
 Vex me no more with importunings vain ! ' 
 
 So, mad with anger and the stinging smart 
 
 Of passion unrequited, to the plain 
 
 Where lay the road to Bagdad rode Kareem, 
 
 Through thickets of pomegranate trees whose blooms 
 
 Gleamed out like stars of fire in emerald seas, 
 
 Seeking his rival in the bosky ways ; 
 
 And came upon him just beneath the palms 
 
 Beside the well, where first Haroun had seen 
 
 The world-enhancing beauty of his love. 
 
 Like the black face of Eblis was the face 
 
 Kareem turned on Haroun, reining his horse 
 
 Close to his very bridle. His wrath swept 
 
 Like the death-dealing sand-storm of the waste 
 
 Where bones lie bleached and the air seethes with thirst. 
 
 His curses fell upon Haroun as kites 
 
 Fall on their prey to rend it. His keen tongue 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. I 31 
 
 Was as a thistle to the naked foot. 
 
 Long time Haroun with patience suffered him, 
 
 Knowing his kindness to Siatrah's kin ; 
 
 Till at the last his insolence broke down 
 
 All patience as a mountain torrent fierce, 
 
 Swollen with rain, bursts through a barrier. 
 
 Stung by the fury of his beating words, 
 
 Haroun unloosed the bands of speech, and cried: 
 
 " Mayst thou be stung by scorpions of Cashan ! 
 
 Thine is a soul that swarms with evil thoughts 
 
 As slime-pits swarm with serpents ! Now no more 
 
 Profane her honor-giving name and mine 
 
 With thy foul leprosy of words ; but draw 
 
 Thy sword ! " 
 
 He leaped down lightly from his horse, 
 An Arab barb white as the foam on milk, 
 And stood clad in his rage as in linked mail, 
 While his jade-hafted blade flashed in the sun. 
 
 As when a leopard at a lion leaps, 
 A whirlwind of incarnate rage, so dashed 
 Kareem, foaming with wrath, against Haroun ; 
 But unabashed as a great eagle were 
 
I32 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 If fierce against it flew a sparrow-hawk, 
 
 Haroun withstood his blows and beat him back. 
 
 As when one stamps a dying watch-fire out, 
 
 The sparks flew from their flashing swords, which rang 
 
 Like cymbals smitten when tribes rush to war. 
 
 Their horses, with distended nostrils, neighed 
 
 In keen delight of battle, while in fear 
 
 The timid lizards fled their trampling feet. 
 
 But not for long might one withstand Haroun, 
 Whose sword was like the name of Solomon. 
 He smote the chieftain of the hill-folk down, 
 And stood above him proud and terrible, 
 In strength and beauty like the wild white ass, 
 Tempered like a Damascus blade of price, 
 A prince of men, worthy Siatrah's grace. 
 
 <c Live," said Haroun, "since her dead father's love 
 Hath made thee sacred." 
 
 But before Kareem 
 Could rise or answer, there beside them stood 
 Siatrah, with her heart-bewildering face. 
 
 " Lo, thus," she cried, "our chief betrays the guest 
 Bound to our tribe by covenant of salt ! 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. I 33 
 
 I smote the slave who told me in the plain 
 
 Thou wouldst waylay my lord ; what then is meet 
 
 That I should do to thee who prove him true ? " 
 
 And cut to heart Kareem abased his face, 
 
 Groaning in agony of rage and shame. 
 
 Then raised his head to cry with bitter tongue : 
 
 " What is the covenant of salt to him 
 Whose heart's delight is stolen ? Not my guest 
 Is he who steals my love, although there be 
 A thousand vows between us ! Oh, dove-eyed, 
 How shall I win thee? What price buys thy heart? 
 See ! Though we be but hill-folk, I can give 
 Brocades and slaves and carpets from far Ind, 
 And strings of amber beads, and cups of gold, 
 Turquoise and coral, and great jewels red 
 Our fathers won as spoil of rich Iran." 
 
 Then she smiled on him till between her lips 
 Her white teeth shone like hailstones fallen between 
 The crimson petals of a rose ; and turned 
 To flash upon him mocking eyes, and say : 
 
 " The only jewel that could buy my love 
 Is that ring which Haroun, as all men know, 
 
134 THE RING 0F HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Flung in the Tigris. When thou bringest that 
 My love requites thee ! " 
 
 Then Kareem leaped up, 
 His blood-shot eyes on fire with passion wild, 
 And cast upon the twain a burning look 
 Like baleful spell of sorcery accursed. 
 
 cc So be it ! ' through clenched teeth he said. cc I go 
 To win thy dower from the Tigris' bed." 
 
 And mounting his black horse, he rode away 
 Across the plain to where the minarets 
 Of Bagdad showed against the sunset sky. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 135 
 
 V 
 
 Well nigh unto its end wore Ramadhan, 
 
 The weary, wasting moon of penitence, 
 
 Wherein from dawn till sunset all men fast. 
 
 Only one day there was, left like a leaf 
 
 Withered and fluttering on the bough forlorn. 
 
 And on the eve of that last day, elate 
 
 With knowledge of the coming of her love, 
 
 Siatrah robed herself in lustrous silk 
 
 In hue like a ripe fig, purple at once 
 
 And green, and yet not either ; wrought with gold 
 
 And richest tracery of needlework ; 
 
 While here and there were clasps with sapphires set 
 
 And rubies red as sunbeams plunged in wine. 
 
 On yielding cushions languidly reclined 
 
 She waited her lord's coming, her full heart 
 
 Aching with rapture as a mother's breast 
 
 Strains, full and round, to her babe's nursing lip. 
 
 Musk, myrrh, and camphor, sandal-wood and spice, 
 
 Perfumed the air about her ; while the tent 
 
 Glowed with the light of clustered silver lamps 
 
 Fed with sweet-scented oils. Slave girls unseen 
 
I36 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 With soft, persuasive fingers touched the lute 
 
 In melting cadences voluptuous, 
 
 Or breathed melodious sighs through low-voiced 
 
 pipes ; 
 Till, joining in their strain, Siatrah sang : 
 
 " Oh, love, thou art freer than breath ! 
 Oh, love, thou art fiercer than hate ! 
 Oh, love, thou art stronger than death ! 
 Oh, love, thou art mightier than fate ! 
 From the touch of thy hand who can flee ? 
 At the sound of thy voice who can stay ? 
 Who can measure his strength against thee ? 
 If thou askest for life, say thee nay ? " 
 
 And even as she sang, a slave girl fell, 
 
 Panting with haste and fear, before her feet ; 
 
 And had but time to cry one word — cc Kareem ! " — 
 
 Before the chief put the tent-curtain by, 
 
 And stood before her, his fierce, cruel eyes 
 
 Like eyes of tiger with claws buried deep 
 
 In his prey's side. 
 
 cc O jasmine-tree," he said, 
 "Cast in the mold of comeliness, and framed 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. \ 37 
 
 To tease the hearts of men, when shall be set 
 Our bridal feast? For, lo ! I bring thee here 
 The ring which is thy heart's desire." 
 
 He held 
 The great red ruby, quick with splendid fires, 
 Like a torch to Siatrah ; but she shrank 
 As if its redness were a serpent's mouth. 
 
 " Allah is most compassionate ! ' she cried ; 
 " It cannot be that thou hast found the ring ! ' 
 
 Her lips were pallid, and she shook with fear 
 As a frail harebell on a torrent's marge 
 Trembles with the near passion of the stream. 
 
 " Allah is most compassionate! " cried back 
 
 Kareem. cc He knoweth that thou art to me 
 
 As water unto him who dies of thirst ; 
 
 As sight unto the blind ; fire to the torch ; 
 
 Or light unto the day, which lacking it 
 
 Were darksome night ! Therefore hath Allah wrought 
 
 A miracle to save me, that I win 
 
 Haroun's lost ring, which is thy beauty's price." 
 
I38 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 Unseen the minstrel slave girls still played on 
 Their joyous music, but Siatrah's joy 
 Was as a light put out. 
 
 " Tell me," she said, 
 Her words faltering like mourners blind with tears, 
 " This miracle that hath been wrought for thee." 
 
 " Eight days," he said, cc I sent the divers down, 
 
 And made the fishers drag their nets in search 
 
 Of this great signet of Al Mohdi. Deep 
 
 They dived, and crawled like crawfish in the ooze; 
 
 But found it not ; and at the last despair 
 
 Took hold upon my heart like frosts that chill 
 
 The tender blossoms of the almond tree. 
 
 But on the ninth day came a sorcerer, 
 
 Lean as a lance-staff, withered, brown and dry 
 
 As locust-pod, with snow-white beard which fell 
 
 Below his girdle. c Cast the net,' he said, 
 
 £ There where the farthest shadow of the bridge 
 
 Falls when the voice of the muezzin cries 
 
 The hour of noonday prayer/ And by mine eyes ! 
 
 When there the cast was made, it brought the ring 
 
 Up from the flood tangled in the net's mesh. 
 
 It is thy dower, and thou art mine at last ! " 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 139 
 
 But she drew back, and thrust the ring aside. 
 
 " I love thee not, and I am not for thee," 
 
 She said. " Take comfort in the price Haroun 
 
 Will pay thee for the ring." 
 
 " Now by my beard," 
 He cried in bitter rage; " is this thy faith ? 
 When did thy father's daughter learn to wear 
 The robe of falsehood? Thou thyself didst make 
 This ring thy dower ! " 
 
 Then with cruel words 
 Which stung her quivering soul like nine-thonged lash 
 That tears with bloody stripes a slave's bared back 
 He railed upon her, while she had no word 
 Save that in mockery she named the ring ; 
 Until at last her sudden rage leaped up 
 And quenched out all forbearance utterly 
 As an armed warrior's heel stamps out a spark. 
 
 " Begone ! " she cried. " Lest I should call my slaves 
 To cast thee forth ! " 
 
 " To-morrow I will come," 
 He answered her in taunt, "with sound of flutes 
 And drums and cymbals and with dancing girls, 
 
I4O THE RIXG OF HAROUiY AL R AS CHID. 
 
 To set thee on a tall white camel's back 
 And bear thee far away from Bagdad. Lo, 
 Now thou art mine, I will not thou shouldst yield 
 Fair looks and gracious words to this Haroun. 
 This outcast brother of the Caliph comes 
 Too often to thy tent ! Thou art a grape 
 For other mouth than his ! Give him no more 
 The smile of welcome." 
 
 Blown with insolence 
 As a puff-adder with its venom, sure 
 He held her fast, he gloated on her pain ; 
 But she flashed on him such a look of scorn 
 That he w x as like a bubble burst. He turned 
 And laid his hand on the tent-curtain. 
 
 "Yea," 
 He said, £C to-morrow I will come ! " 
 
 But when 
 The curtain fell behind him, wan and pale 
 As the gray ashes on a burned-out brand, 
 Reeling with grief as she were drunk with wine, 
 Siatrah rose as she would follow him ; 
 But heard through the night noises and the sound 
 Of sw T eet, smooth melodies the slave girls played, 
 The beating of a horse's hoofs, and knew 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 14 1 
 
 Haroun drew near. Straightway she smiled again. 
 
 Drawing the mantle of concealment o'er 
 
 The anguish of her breast ; for though her pain 
 
 Strike with its serpent-fangs her very heart, 
 
 A woman hides her woe from him she loves, 
 
 Lest he be grieved in seeing. Sad at soul 
 
 Siatrah wore the guise of joyousness 
 
 As bride unwilling wears the marriage robe. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 VI 
 
 But when Haroun put the tent curtain by, 
 
 As the moon puts aside a cloud, his brow 
 
 Was dark with shadow of perplexity ; 
 
 And though his eyes gladdened at sight of her 
 
 Like pools on which the sudden sunlight falls, 
 
 Her heart divined some trouble in his breast. 
 
 So from her lips she scattered pearls of speech, 
 
 Comforting him, and when at last he smiled, 
 
 She kissed his hand, and said : 
 
 cc Tell me, my lord, 
 
 What trouble casts its cloud upon thy face. 
 
 If it must be I may not cure thy grief 
 
 A: least together we will bear its pain, 
 
 That so the time seem shorter till it flee ; 
 
 For sorrow, risen like the morning sun, 
 
 Yet like the sun must set." 
 
 And with a kiss 
 
 Brimming with love as rose-cups with perfume, 
 
 Haroun made answer, fondling her slim hand. 
 
 = et," said he, "while my fond heart ached 
 With thirst for thee, after the long day's fast, 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 143 
 
 I rode out at the city's gate, as full 
 
 Of joy as is a burning torch with light; 
 
 When met me in the way a sorcerer, 
 
 Lean as a lance-staff, brown as camel's heel, 
 
 With beard that hid his girdle, and with eyes 
 
 Which pierced me like a sword-prick. c Lo, Haroun,' 
 
 He cried as if in menace terrible, 
 
 * Where is that ring thy dying father gave 
 
 In sign that thou shouldst sit upon his throne ? 
 
 To-morrow ends the fast of Ramadhan, 
 
 And who to-morrow wears that fateful ring 
 
 Shall reign as Caliph when the stars shall rise.' 
 
 He cast on me a look of threat and blame, 
 
 But yet of promise ; then the place he filled 
 
 Was vacant of him ; and across the plain 
 
 I sped to thee. But that old sorcerer 
 
 Seemed still to hold my bridle, while his eyes 
 
 Said things inscrutable and full of fate." 
 
 Pale was Siatrah, but she took his hand, 
 And round his finger wound a shining tress 
 Of her long hair, black as a falcon's neck, 
 Murmuring with laughter: 
 
 "What more precious ring 
 Can my lord long for, having this ? " 
 
144 THE RIXG 0F HAROUX AL RASCHID. 
 
 And he 
 Warmed it with fervent kisses, crying out : 
 
 " What care I to be Caliph, since thine heart, 
 The only kingdom I desire, is mine ! " 
 
 So had they joy in love until Haroun 
 Was comforted ; but when the feast was brought, — 
 Cheeses and wheaten cakes, and snowy curds, 
 With meats pistachio-stuffed, and luscious dates, 
 Quinces in flavor like wine mixed with musk, 
 Melons as pink as young girls' cheeks, with seeds 
 Black as their eyes, and sherbets cooled with snow, — 
 Siatrah slipped aside, and whispered to a slave: 
 
 " Haste to Kareem, and bid him send the ring. 
 Say that to-morrow I will pay the price/' 
 
 Then, when the feast was done, she sang this lay, 
 Which from her lips in wooing accents fell 
 Like silver bells heard far off in the night, 
 While mingled with its melting cadences 
 The sweet, melodious trouble of her lute: 
 
 cc Dear love, when in thine arms I lie, 
 And feel thy faithful heart 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 1 45 
 
 Throbbing with love which cannot die, 
 And know how true thou art, — 
 Ah, why unbidden to mine eyes 
 Should foolish teardrops thronging rise ? 
 Why should I weep ? 
 
 " Dear love, thy kiss falls on my mouth, 
 Thine arms hold me again ; 
 I drink thy looks as earth in drouth 
 Drinks drops of welcome rain; 
 Once more upon thine ardent breast 
 My glowing cheeks are hidden pressed ; 
 And yet I weep. 
 
 "When thou art gone, and I am lone, 
 Bereft of life in thee, 
 When all this joy which we have known 
 Lost in the past shall be ; — 
 Then, when undone by sorrow's ache, 
 In death my heart shall refuge take; 
 I shall not weep ! " 
 
 With bosom swelling like a moonlit wave 
 She cast the lute aside, and flung her arms, 
 
 10 
 
I46 THE RING OF HAROUX AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Twin miracles of matchless loveliness, 
 About Haroun, weeping upon his breast. 
 Then as a mother soothes a child at night 
 Frightened by some dream afrit-sent, Haroun 
 With soft endearments dried her blinding tears ; 
 And when her sobs were done, took up the lute, 
 In his turn singing verse fragrant w 7 ith love: 
 
 cc Was I not thine when Allah spoke the word 
 Which formed from smoke the sky ? 
 Were not our twin hearts one when heaven heard 
 The first faint stars reply ? 
 
 "Canst thou then doubt that while the ages roll 
 Our being one shall be ? 
 As flame and light are one, so is my soul 
 One, O my love, with thee ! 
 
 " The ebbing star-floods of the Judgment Day 
 Shall leave mv heart still thine : 
 And Paradise itself shall fade away 
 Ere I thy love resign ! " 
 
 Thus like two tamarisk-haunting turtle-doves 
 They joyed together till the wasting night 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 Called him away ; and when she said farewell, 
 She gave into his hand a casket sealed, 
 Bidding him open it when day should come, 
 And the muezzin called to morning prayer. 
 
 Then when his horse's hoof-beats died away, 
 She hid no longer her heart-burning grief; 
 But from her hand she loosed the cord of hope, 
 And sank into the whirlpool of despair. 
 
 H7 
 
I4'S THE RIXG OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 VII 
 
 On that last day of Ramadhan there came 
 
 Unto Al Hadi those who said : 
 
 cc Haroun 
 
 Plots with the hill-folk, and will rouse the tribes 
 
 To swarm on Bagdad like the ants which come 
 
 Where grains of wheat are scattered ; on their spears 
 
 His treason rides unto thy throne." 
 
 And he, 
 
 Hating Haroun, and thinking how he stood 
 
 Between the crown and that son whom he loved, 
 
 Swore by his beard the shadow of Haroun 
 
 Should fall no longer on the whole wide earth; 
 
 And gave command to Harthamah, the chief 
 
 Of all his trusted guards, to rid him swift 
 
 Of this his fear. 
 
 But swiftly from her place 
 
 Behind the women's lattice, where she heard, 
 
 Khizaran, mother of them both, broke forth, 
 
 And cast herself before Al Hadi's feet. 
 
 cc Who slays my son, slavs me ! " she cried. <£ Haroun 
 Is as thou art, O son, blood of my blood, 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. J 49 
 
 Flesh of my flesh, bone of my very bone ! 
 
 Let not this thing be done in Allah's sight, 
 
 Lest He should curse thee with the curse of Cain ! " 
 
 But from her frenzied grasp he drew his robe, 
 And answered her with anger : 
 
 "Well I know 
 That thou wouldst rather have me slain ! Too long 
 Haroun hath been as sand within mine eye. 
 Get back unto thy distaff; meddle not 
 With high concerns of state." 
 
 Yet still she prayed, 
 Beating her aged breast as the wave beats 
 On the hoar sand, and weeping sore. 
 
 cc O son, 
 Whom these same breasts have suckled, I am old, — 
 If thou must needs have blood, take mine, since he 
 Is what my hand hath made him ! Mine the blame 
 If he offend thee ! Hurt not his sweet life 
 Who is the jewel on thy people's brow, 
 The noblest man Allah hath made ! " 
 
 She turned 
 And fixed on Harthamah her blazing eyes. 
 
I50 THE RIXG OF HAROUX AL RASCHID. 
 
 "In the great Day of Fear," she cried, "will I, 
 
 en at Allah's very throne, demand 
 The blood of this my son Haroun ! ' 
 
 Ar.i he. 
 Awed by her fury, would have joined her plea 
 Bu: :>.:.: .-_. 'rl:,i: !ts: ,\t :>.:he ~-i:h :izt. 
 Left the divan, and sought the women's court, 
 Belching forth curses blistering to the ears ; 
 While after him Khizaran followed, pale, 
 And tottering like one with blindness struck. 
 
 " Give me to drink," Al Hadi cried. " Are all 
 In league with that black son of hell, Haroun, 
 That ve would have me strangle here with thirst?" 
 
 As fields of growing wheat bend to a storm, 
 Before his anger all the slave girls bowed, 
 Mute and amazed, daring not answer him ; 
 Smitten with horror at the sacrilege 
 That one should drink in sacred Ramadhan ; 
 While his wives pleaded : 
 
 " Break thou not the fast, 
 Commander of the Faithful, lest a curse 
 Fall on thee!" 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. \ 5 I 
 
 But from old Khizaran's eyes 
 There flashed a look was like the lightning's gleam. 
 
 " Thou shalt have drink," she answered. cc Ease thine 
 
 heart 
 With that which I shall give thee, and forgive 
 That I have dared rebel at thy decree, 
 When thou art Caliph as thou art my son." 
 
 Then, though the time was holy Ramadhan, 
 "She brought him sherbet cooled with mountain snow, 
 Acid with citron, fragrant with sweet musk, 
 Enticing to the sense. 
 
 But as he drank 
 Sudden death clutched the Caliph unaware, 
 Its bony fingers closing on his throat. 
 
 A burst of fear and horror rose from all 
 The frightened women, as sharp tumult rings 
 From smitten armor when an ambush leaps 
 Upon its prey; while after Harthamah, 
 Who in the palace court marshalled his troop, 
 Her gray hair streaming wild and her fierce eyes 
 Like watch-fire coals at night, Khizaran sped, 
 
I52 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID, 
 
 Shrieking : 
 
 " Go not ! Allah hath smitten him 
 Who would have smitten ! Not death for Haroun, 
 But that throne which his dying father gave !" 
 
 And like a ghoul she triumphed, while within 
 The voice of wailing mourned her first-born son. 
 
 Well had Khizaran loved Haroun, at heart 
 
 Hating Al Hadi that he wore the crown ; 
 
 And through the palace ran, pursuing swift 
 
 The tidings of the Caliph's death as hound 
 
 Follows a hare, the whisper that her hand 
 
 Had with a subtle poison slain the son 
 
 She hated, that the one she loved might live. 
 
 Like a wild wind throughout the palace swept 
 
 Fright and uncertainty tumultuous ; 
 
 While all the courtiers, dazed with dread and doubt, 
 
 Questioned to whom their homage should be paid. 
 
 Bagdad buzzed like a hive when wanton boys 
 
 Rifle its honey ; and " Haroun ! Haroun ! ' 
 
 The people cried, raising his name on high 
 
 As it had been the standard of a host. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. I 53 
 
 Then took Khizaran trusty messengers, 
 
 And sent them forth as if they fled from flame. 
 
 cc Faster than fear/' she cried, " fleet to Haroun ; 
 Bid him to haste before the throne be cold ! ' 
 
 But Harthamah to cunning council called 
 Those who had been Al Hadi's creatures. 
 
 " See," 
 He said ; " fate gives the lot into our hands. 
 If on the throne we set Al Hadi's son, 
 This boy scarce yet out of his mother's arms, 
 We reign through him, using his name to be 
 Only the shield behind which hides our will." 
 
 So in the web of destiny the threads 
 Of death and fear and hope and hate and love 
 Were mingled, as the tireless hand of Fate 
 Threw the remorseless shuttle, for Haroun 
 Weaving the robe of sovereignty at last. 
 
154 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 VIII 
 
 On that last sacred day of Ramadhan 
 
 It needed not the call to sunrise prayer 
 
 To rouse Haroun from dreams in which his hand 
 
 Yet felt Siatrah's fingers warm in his, 
 
 In which he thrilled with fervor of her kiss 
 
 As thrills the moth which drowns itself in flame. 
 
 Soon as the morning prayer was said, he took 
 
 The casket which Siatrah gave, and kissed, 
 
 And tore away its silken wrappings, broke 
 
 The clasps inlaid with coral, — and aghast 
 
 Saw shine before his eyes Al Mohdi's ring. 
 
 It seemed some wild, fantastic sorcery, 
 But on the ruby red as his heart's blood 
 He saw the sacred name, and read once more 
 Al Mohdi's seal: "Allah sufficeth me." 
 He bit the finger of amazement, lost 
 In baffled wonder how the jewel came 
 Unto Siatrah's hand ; then eager sped 
 To take his curd-white horse in haste to ride 
 Up to the hills and her. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. I 55 
 
 But in the gate 
 Sat that weird sorcerer, snow-bearded, brown, 
 And lean as an old gossip's spindle. 
 
 " Stay, 
 Commander of the Faithful," was the word 
 He breathed into Haroun's astonished ear. 
 "Go not from Bagdad till the sun be set. 
 Thou hast the ring I to thy father gave, — 
 The ring of doom. This is the day of fate." 
 
 cc Commander of the Faithful am I not," 
 Haroun said; "but his brother favorless, 
 Like some poor vessel scorned contemptuously 
 And cast aside, which yet he dare not break 
 Because the Bagdad folk have loved me well 
 As well they loved my father, — on whom peace ! ' 
 
 The other answered not, but took his rein, 
 
 And turned the white steed quickly in the gate, 
 
 And waved Haroun the way that he should go 
 
 Back to his dwelling. There the long hours through 
 
 Haroun mused on his fate and of the ring, 
 
 Lost in a thicket of perplexity 
 
 So dense and thorny he might not escape ; 
 
I56 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Until at last Khizaran's messengers 
 Burst in upon his musings with wide eyes 
 Bloodshot with haste, and panting breath, to cry : 
 
 "Commander of the Faithful, we are come 
 To bring thee to thy throne. Pray thee, arise, 
 And come with haste, lest treason in thy place 
 Should set another.' , 
 
 But Haroun broke forth, 
 Smitten with deep amazement: 
 
 " Lo, what snare 
 Spreads now my brother for my feet, that ye 
 Are sent with mouths as full of lies as breath 
 To fool me into treason ? " 
 
 But they said, 
 Abasing reverent foreheads to the dust : 
 
 cc There is no God save Allah. At His word 
 Hath Asrael slain thy brother." 
 
 And they showed 
 All that was done, and how Khizaran sent 
 To speed his coming; till Haroun arose, 
 And hastened through the streets, hearing his name 
 Thrown on from voice to voice as men might fling 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 157 
 
 Their turbans up, inebriate with joy. 
 
 So came they to the secret door where gray, 
 
 Consumed with shivering fear and burning hope, 
 
 Khizaran crouched in waiting. 
 
 " O my son, 
 
 Light of mine eyes, bliss-bringer ! ' fierce she cried ; 
 
 And kissed his forehead and his mouth, and wept 
 
 Upon his hands, delirious with joy. 
 
 " Now thou art Caliph ! Now the morn is come 
 
 After the bitter blackness of my night ! 
 
 Now the sun rises, and my withered age 
 
 Is turned to verdant youth! " 
 
 But he put by 
 
 Her glowing words, which spilled their gladness forth 
 
 As a ripe sun-warmed grape oozes its juice. 
 
 An instant he stood silent, while she hushed 
 
 Her cry of clamorous rejoicing, awed 
 
 By the accusing question of his eyes. 
 
 "Thou art my mother," said he, "but thou wert 
 His mother too ; hast thou then given death 
 To him who in thy bosom first knew life ? " 
 
 But she bent on him eyes inscrutable, 
 Like polished ebony, and cried in scorn : 
 
I58 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 iC Do I give life and death ? By Allah's hand, 
 
 And by His hand alone, the lot of life 
 
 Or death is cast for all. Thy brother sinned, 
 
 Breaking the fast of holy Ramadhan, 
 
 And Allah smote him. — Let the dead be dead ! ' 
 
 Nor would she stay for further questioning, 
 
 But thrust into his hand a cimeter, 
 
 Curved like the eyelash of his love, and cried: 
 
 " Lo, while thou lingerest here, in yonder room 
 Is thy throne sold as if in the bazaar 
 A merchant sold a carpet ! " 
 
 Through the gloom 
 Of secret passages she led him on 
 Until he stood within a curtained niche, 
 And heard the voice of Harthamah, who said : 
 
 <c So shall all power be ours, and proud Haroun 
 Shall die as was commanded. In the name 
 Of this boy Caliph may we work our will 
 Till we have bent this people to our sway 
 As the strong bowman bends the stubborn bow ; 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 159 
 
 While this Haroun shall be as yesterday 
 That is forgotten." 
 
 But one courtier said, 
 Craft and reluctance mingling in his tone 
 As two snakes writhe together in the slime.: 
 
 <c Nay, be not rash, lest in the Day of Fear 
 
 Allah shall hurl thee howling down to hell 
 
 To everlasting torment. We have sworn 
 
 Unto Al Mohdi, when in Masabdan 
 
 Dying he lay, that we would serve Haroun, 
 
 Binding our vow with oaths so terrible 
 
 Even the djinns accurs'd would keep such oath." 
 
 <c Now, nay," another said : cc by Allah's eyes 
 We swore our faith to him who wore the ring 
 Which was Al Mohdi's signet. Since Haroun 
 Hath flung that in the Tigris, we are free, 
 And our oath binds us not." 
 
 Then swift Haroun 
 Put by the curtain, and before them stood. 
 Upon his clenched left hand upraised, the ring 
 Blazed like an angry afrit's eye. His right 
 Held with firm grasp the keen-edged cimeter, 
 
l60 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 While his face shone with fire of majesty 
 Consumed resistance as flame shrivels tow. 
 
 " Nay, by the Prophet's beard," he said, " not so ! 
 
 Allah hath sent the signet back to me. 
 
 The ring is here, and here your Caliph stands ! 
 
 I would not that this day auspicious be 
 
 A day of death, but by my father's ring 
 
 I swear that ye who plot in secret here 
 
 Like rats that undermine a lofty wall, 
 
 Shall yield allegiance, or this cimeter 
 
 Shall drink your blood as gluttons drink red wine ! ' 
 
 As when a falcon falls upon a flock 
 Of timorous rock-doves, and so great their fright 
 They dare not even flee, so stood Haroun 
 Amid the cowering courtiers stricken mute 
 With fear and baffled hate. 
 
 " Behold ! ' they cried, 
 " Allah indeed hath wrought a miracle, 
 And brought the signet from the Tigris' depths. 
 Vain were it to contend with Allah's might. 
 Since He hath spoken, let His will be done." 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. l6l 
 
 And soon all Bagdad rang like a struck drum. 
 Reverberating with the name " Haroun ! " 
 Proclaimed Commander of the Faithful, named 
 Caliph of Kings from every minaret. 
 
 ii 
 
1 62 THE RIXG OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 IX 
 
 But when the sun went dosvn, and Ramadhan 
 is done, and the clear stars rose on Haroun 
 id found him Caliph ; when the whole land rang 
 With :t: ::gs and joy of many feasts 
 
 And all the clanging din of revelry ; 
 When torches made the sky of night to glow 
 Like a bride's cheek ; and dead Al Hadi lay 
 Like a past : ::en ; then Haroun 
 
 5:ole from the palace as a dew-drop slips 
 L'nseen from out the bosom of a rose, 
 And left all pomp to hasten to his love. 
 
 :ross the plains up to the well loved hills 
 His white steed took the old familiar way, 
 While night darkened around and faint winds rose 
 To toss the palm-trees' plumy tops and moan 
 Through the acacia thickets. Weird and high, 
 Like ramine-dizzy camels, the gray clouds 
 ndered about the sky, fantastic shapes ; 
 While in the air were presages of ill 
 As evil spirits :"oul beset his way. 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 1 63 
 
 But wrapped in love dreams sweet, and heeding not 
 If it were night or day, Haroun spurred on, 
 Soft murmuring to himself as if his love 
 Already heard him : 
 
 " Heart-inflaming one, 
 O wonder-maid, bewildering eyes and soul, 
 How long the moments while I stay from thee, 
 How brief the hours while I am by thy side ! 
 Now that the throne is mine, thy place shall be 
 No longer in the tents, like some rich gem 
 Left all unset ; thy glorious light shall shine 
 In Bagdad's proudest palace, like a torch 
 Set on the city wall ! " 
 
 But as he neared 
 Siatrah's dwelling, on his ear there fell 
 The voices of sad women wailing sore, 
 While ever moaning rebecs teased the ear 
 Repeating one insistent note of pain; 
 And like a shaft which from an ambush flies, 
 A keen and sudden terror pierced his breast. 
 He drew his rein as if to stay his horse, 
 Then struck the spurs into its side, and dashed 
 Up to the tent dim-lighted whence welled forth 
 The woeful anguish of that song of death. 
 
164 THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 
 
 But with his hand on the tent-curtain, faint 
 With fear and fore-seen agony, he paused 
 And heard the women sing, while rebecs plained, 
 The low, melodious requiem for the dead : 
 
 cc The sun hath been quenched, the moon is put out, 
 The stars shine no more in the sky ; 
 
 Love no longer is sweet, faith is swallowed by doubt, 
 Since she who was loveliest could die ! ' 
 
 Then he could bear no more, but flung aside 
 The goats'-hair curtain, and before him lay 
 On a long couch beneath the silver lamps 
 That which had been Siatrah. 
 
 With a cry 
 Of awful woe which pierced to Allah's throne, 
 He flung him down, smitten as with a spear; 
 But ere his passion could find word, there rose 
 A clamor which broke through the women's wails ; 
 And like a madman rushed the chief Kareem 
 Into that tent of death. 
 
 Haroun sprang up, 
 And the two chieftains one another faced 
 Like snarling tigers fighting for one mate; 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 165 
 
 While all the singing women shrieked in fear, 
 And every rebec ceased with jarring note. 
 
 <c It was for thee she died ! " burst forth Kareem. 
 
 <c She bought thy ring with promise of her love, 
 
 Then slew herself that she might still be thine. 
 
 Mayst thou through all eternity be shod 
 
 With shoes of fire; the Judgment Angels smite 
 
 Their iron maces on thy deathless head ; 
 
 Thy brain boil in thy skull as boils a pot, 
 
 In hell whither my sword shall send thee swift ! " 
 
 As a flail whistles on the waiting wheat, 
 His sword sang in the air, but like a flame 
 Waved by the wind the Caliph stepped aside, 
 Drawing his cimeter. With one great stroke, 
 In which he poured his passion and his rage 
 As if he struck at Asrael's very self 
 Avenging his love's death, he laid Kareem 
 Dead at the dead Siatrah's feet. 
 
 "Ah, woe! 
 Happy thou who canst die ! " he groaned. " Alas ! 
 I must live on and on and on and on ! " 
 
1 66 THE RING OF HAROUN AL R AS CHID. 
 
 Then rose a woman from that weeping band, 
 
 And showed him how Siatrah's fingers, cold 
 
 And pallid from the clasp of death, enclosed 
 
 A parchment, touching his name on it writ 
 
 As if they knew and loved each syllable. 
 
 He flung to earth his bloody sword, which rang 
 
 Against the fallen blade of dead Kareem, 
 
 And took the scroll, and read through blinding tears 
 
 cc Commander of the Faithful, though thou be 
 Sovereign of sovereigns, oh, forget not her 
 Who died to have thee so, and dying felt 
 Death's stroke as if it were thy blissful kiss 
 Because she died for thee ! In Paradise 
 She waiteth lonely till the time shall come 
 When thou again shalt put thy hand in hers, 
 And Allah, looking on her joy, shall say: 
 c Lo, here is bliss perfect as is mine own ! ' 
 
 Then all the anguish of his heart broke forth. 
 He cast himself again upon the earth 
 Beside the couch where she who loved him lay 
 With breast unquickened though he came so near; 
 
THE RING OF HAROUN AL RASCHID. 167 
 
 And kissed with tears the ring that was her price, 
 And on it read "Allah sufficeth me." 
 Then cried in sudden ecstasy of woe : 
 
 " What can suffice a heart bereft of love ! ' 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA, 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 I 
 
 THE whole wide desert for a moment glowed 
 In glory of a haze of golden light; 
 Then there was no more day, but the clear stars 
 Clustered as thick as eager bees which storm 
 Acacia thickets heaped with yellow bloom. 
 The flickering fires of the caravan 
 Trembled in the still air from their own breath ; 
 The weary camels crouched beside the tents ; 
 And one day's march less lay between the train 
 And Bagdad, where its journey should have end. 
 
 Precious the treasure which the caravan 
 Guarded across the desert. There had come 
 Unto the Caliph trusty messengers 
 From far-off Kandahar to bear him word 
 How a world's wonder had arisen ; how 
 
I 72 THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. 
 
 A maid more beautiful than mountain rill 
 
 To him who dies of thirst, more passing fair 
 
 Than those heart-troubling houris who pour wine 
 
 In Paradise for heroes after death; 
 
 A sweet Circassian slave, formed as of light, 
 
 A merchant there had bought with all the wealth 
 
 His hand could bring together; and he prayed 
 
 The Caliph take her for his own, since none 
 
 Save the Commander of the Faithful were 
 
 Worthy of so much beauty. Though the price 
 
 Was that of twenty villages, not long 
 
 The Caliph doubted ; but he sent Zobeir, 
 
 The captain of his guard, a man of worth, 
 
 To bring the maid to Bagdad. 
 
 Proud of port 
 Was young Zobeir, like a slim cedar-tree 
 Which springs upon the mountains of Iran. 
 Love had not touched him, but ambition's flame 
 Glowed hotly in his breast. His sword alone 
 Was mistress of his heart ; and with light scorn 
 He laughed adown the winds the wiles of love. 
 His loyalty was as a gem unflawed ; 
 His courage as the splendor of the sun; 
 His truth unfailing as the dew of night. 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. I 73 
 
 Among the tents Zobeir walked forth alone 
 
 To see that all was well ; and as he stood 
 
 Beside the tent wherein the women were, 
 
 He heard the sound of voices as one hears 
 
 The doves that coo and chatter in their cote, 
 
 With tinkle of sweet lutes, whose silver strings 
 
 Cried out with joy at the caressing touch 
 
 Of fingers fair. Then one heart-melting tone 
 
 Rose 'mid the other voices as a thread 
 
 Of yellow gold gleams in the broideries 
 
 A princess weaves with cunning handiwork. 
 
 Quick were all others hushed, while that voice sang 
 
 Enchantments of bewitching melody. 
 
 " In mead where roses bloom 
 
 I saw a withered rose. 
 c Ah! ' sighed I, 'how hath doom 
 
 Struck thee, as love's fierce woes 
 Have blighted my sad heart, 
 Faint with their bitter smart ? ' 
 
 " £ I dreamed/ the rose replied, 
 1 My nightingale was near ; 
 Morn waked me, and denied 
 That dream's beguilement dear. 
 
I 74 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 Bereft and lone, I die, 
 Since love no more is nigh.' 
 
 " c Alas, poor rose ! ' I wept ; 
 
 c Thy lot and mine are one. 
 Joy found me while I slept, 
 
 But fled when sleep was done. 
 Why could not morn delay 
 Until the Judgment Day ! ' " 
 
 Then in the dimness of the night, Zobeir 
 Lingered entranced, and listened to that song, 
 While love sprang on him as a lion leaps 
 Out of the covert on a doe which drinks 
 At some lone pool. In one swift instant fled 
 His life's ambitions, till he had no thought 
 Save of the singer. Naught in all the earth 
 To him seemed worth the getting save a kiss 
 From those dear lips unseen which sang so sweet. 
 He dreamed no more of place or power or fame ; 
 But under the thick clustering stars he stood, 
 And trembled with the thrill of new-born love. 
 
 Then when the song was done, and once again 
 With broken words and laughter all the air 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. I 75 
 
 Was filled, as when a sudden breeze shakes down 
 
 A cloud of petals from the almond-tree, 
 
 Zobeir beheld an aged slave who came 
 
 Like a dim shadow from the women's tent, 
 
 And called her to his side. 
 
 cc Tell me," he said, 
 
 cc What voice was that which sang ? " 
 
 The slave abased 
 
 Her forehead at his feet, and answered him : 
 
 " It is the voice which this side Paradise 
 
 Is matchless, O my lord. Sakina sang, 
 
 That pearl beyond all price for whose sweet sake 
 
 The Caliph — on whom peace ! — hath sent my lord 
 
 Across the desert with this caravan." 
 
 Mute stood Zobeir, struck to the very heart, 
 Pierced as with stinging arrows by the thought 
 That not for him was she, nightingale-voiced, 
 But even love for her were treachery. 
 Within his tent that night he stricken lay, 
 Consumed with love and sorrow. On his head 
 He sprinkled bitter ashes of remorse ; 
 And then defiant held his love on high 
 As if it were a sword. 
 
176 THE VOICE OF SARIN A. 
 
 cc Oh, hapless fate," 
 He groaned ; c< oh, cunning snare which Eblis sets 
 To catch my soul. Alas ! Thou sweet-voiced one, 
 The stars upon the heaven spell thy name, 
 The wind through every land goes seeking thee, 
 The night brings hush and darkness that thou sleep, 
 Day lights the earth that thou shouldst smile again, 
 The birds sing to thee, and the flowers bloom 
 And pour their fragrance forth for none save thee ; 
 All things else serve and love thee ; I alone 
 May love thee not ! But I will love thee, sweet ! 
 I needs must love thee as the sun must burn, 
 The thunder-bolt must fall ! Thou wert mine own 
 When Allah formed us both ; and I have lived 
 But since I heard thy voice. The thing I was 
 Might be the Caliph's slave, but thou hast called 
 A new Zobeir to being, and henceforth 
 That which thou hast created is thine own ! 
 And yet — and yet — I were not worthy thee 
 If I were false to him ! " 
 
 And drunk with pain 
 As with a poisoned wine, he grovelled there 
 While the night lapsed, and the thick stars on high 
 Moved slowly westward, grieving at his woe. 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. I J J 
 
 II 
 
 Suddenly on his ear there broke a sound 
 
 Which called him back from whirling deeps of doubt. 
 
 A cry broke through the quiet of the camp 
 
 As if some jar had clashing thrown to earth 
 
 Armor of steel ; and instant all the air 
 
 Was full of tumult and of cries and crash 
 
 Of swords wielded with might. 
 
 Zobeir sprang up, 
 Lover no longer, but a soldier fierce. 
 With sword in hand, he dashed out of the tent, 
 Seeing but dimly in the dusky night 
 The shapes of men and steeds ; yet knew a horde 
 Of desert Arabs, bandits jackal-like, 
 Had fallen on the sleeping caravan, 
 Greedy for plunder as a flame for food. 
 
 With such a mighty cry of burning rage 
 
 As a great lion wounded gives, Zobeir 
 
 Rushed on them, dealing blows as terrible 
 
 As Judgment Angels give with iron mace. 
 
 Like a wild whirlwind swept he through the camp, 
 
 12 
 
1 78 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 While robbers fell before him as the corn 
 Goes down before the blast. 
 
 At last he came 
 Unto the women's tent, wherein was placed 
 The fair Sakina, treasure beyond price 
 Intrusted to his hand. Instead of song 
 And babbling laughter, through the curtains came 
 The sound of shrieks and wailing; while around 
 The battle fiercest raged, as when men fight 
 Around the sacred standard of a host. 
 The torches, lit in haste, with flickering glare 
 Lighted the combat, sending up their smoke 
 Vibrating like the tongues of dragons quick 
 To gather at the scent of blood. Their glare 
 Showed to Zobeir how two stout ruffians came 
 Out of the tent dragging a woman veiled; 
 And as she shrieked, he knew again the voice 
 Which he had heard in song. The word of death 
 From Allah's awful lips is not more swift 
 Than was his sword, doom-freighted, as it fell 
 Upon those ravishers. As lightning-smit 
 They fell beside Sakina, dragging down 
 The cypress-slender maid into the dust. 
 But he sprang to her side and raised her ; felt 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. I 79 
 
 Her hand, fear-cold, like a chill gem in his 
 Hot with the strife. An instant through her veil 
 Her eyes glowed in the torchlight, meeting his ; 
 And then again she was among her maids, 
 While he in mad delight, as one whose lips 
 Have drained a potent cup, raged madly on 
 In flame-fierce fury till the robbers fled. 
 
 When once again the morning found the world 
 The ground with blood was crimson as a rose, 
 And strewn with dead as is a threshing-floor 
 With scattered straws. The broken caravan 
 Took its march silently, leaving behind 
 A place of graves amid the desert sands. 
 
 Still as they journeyed on, Zobeir rode close, 
 Guarding Sakina's litter, lest their way 
 Lead to some ambush. All the day they went, 
 Halting not even in the burning noon 
 Lest the foe yet might follow them ; while still 
 Zobeir thrilled with the consciousness of her, 
 And of her nearness. Drinking from a cup 
 Of mingled wine and gall, of woe and pain, 
 He rode beside her whom he might not see, 
 Loving her though he had not seen her face. 
 
1 80 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 The waste was left behind, and when at eve 
 
 The caravan had halted, and the tents 
 
 Were pitched in a fair meadow where perfume 
 
 Of daffodil and hyacinth and rose 
 
 Made all the air sweet as the loved one's breath, — 
 
 When stars burst into bloom, while the old moon, 
 
 Worn to an amulet of silver, gleamed 
 
 With feeble light as if almost dissolved 
 
 In the dark sky; — once more Zobeir, enwrapt, 
 
 Stood by the women's tent, and heard the voice 
 
 Which was to him like song of Paradise 
 
 To one condemned never to enter there. 
 
 He stood foot-tangled in the snare of love, 
 
 And listened while Sakina trilled this song, 
 
 A plaintive lay which maidens of her land 
 
 Sing in the dusky glooms of cassia groves : 
 
 " Sister fairest, why art thou sighing ? 
 c Dear one, a ring was on my hand ; 
 Now in the sea's cold deeps 't is lying, 
 No diver brings it back to land.' 
 
 cc Sister sweetest, why art thou weeping ? 
 
 c Dear one, a rose bloomed on my tree ; 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. l8l 
 
 Some cruel hand while I was sleeping 
 Hath reft my rose away from me/ 
 
 " Sister saddest, why art thou pining ? 
 1 Dear one, I had a lover true ; 
 Death smote him in my arms reclining, 
 And I for death am pining too ! ' " 
 
 Zobeir felt his heart melt within his breast 
 As shadow melts in sunlight while she sang. 
 His strength seemed wasted like the dying moon 
 Which dimly watched him from on high. The cup 
 Of youth was emptied of the wine of hope ; 
 The flame of joy was quenched; blackest despair 
 Compassed him like the darkness of the night. 
 
 Yet still his hand held fast to the fair pearl 
 
 Of honor with forlorn fidelity. 
 
 Through the night watches long he fought his pain, 
 
 And struggled with his passion as it were 
 
 Some fell beast which he grappled by the throat. 
 
 " O soul," he cried within himself, <c learn thou 
 From the poor night-moth, which asks nothing more 
 
1 82 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 Than that it be consumed in the dear flame 
 
 Of its desire. So be thy love, Zobeir ! 
 
 No more my ears must hear her voice ; no more 
 
 Drink in the raptures of her song; lest so 
 
 Love be too strong for duty, and I lose 
 
 All that is left to me in my despair, — 
 
 An honor spotless and a truth unswerved ! ' 
 
THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. 183 
 
 III 
 
 So wore away the night like melting snow, 
 
 Until the morning watch, when once again 
 
 The horde of bandits fell upon the camp, 
 
 Knowing its weakened force. Late, troubled sleep 
 
 Had spread its mantle on Zobeir. In dreams 
 
 He saw an image of Sakina, veiled, 
 
 Borne through the air in a vile afrit's arms. 
 
 A woman's piercing cry shattered his dream 
 
 As a blow breaks a crystal cup, and told 
 
 That once again the foe had found them. 
 
 " Lo! 
 
 I come, Sakina ! " cried Zobeir. 
 
 He leaped 
 Out of his tent into the whirl of strife 
 As leaps a swimmer into foaming waves 
 To save a loved one. Like the pestilence 
 He cut his dreadful way, and maddened wrote 
 His name on many a bosom with his sword, 
 Still struggling on to gain the women's tent. 
 But fate cast not that night the lot for him. 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 A slave behind him flung at him a stone 
 Which dashed him to the ground in headlong swoon ; 
 d life's book seemed to close. 
 
 When he awoke, 
 The morning glowed with saffron light, while he 
 Lay as the dead amid the dead. Like dreams 
 Which haunt the troubled night to flee with dawn, 
 Both friend and foe had vanished utterly. 
 No slave of all his train remained, nor steed, 
 Nor a. 
 
 " There is no god save Allah ! " cried 
 With lifted eyes Zobeir. c; W- - : He hath willed 
 Will surely come to pass. But, O my love, 
 Not while I live will I forsake thy need, 
 If haply Allah to my hand will give 
 The joy of vengeance though He hath denied 
 The bliss of love. rhou delight of time, 
 Fate lead me to thy ravishers, and give 
 A sword into my hand keen as my rage, 
 Strong as my need ! O heart-inspiring one, 
 How would I cherish thee if thou wert mine ! 
 Should but a jasmine leaf offend thy foot, 
 I *d pluck up every jasmine of the plain \ 
 Thy simple presence were unto my soul 
 
THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. 185 
 
 As is the Tuba-tree of Paradise, 
 Whose boughs bear every blessing." 
 
 So while pain 
 More cruel than from poisoned spear-wound burned 
 In his sad bosom, went Zobeir his way, 
 Following the track the robbers careless left 
 Secure that only death remained behind. 
 With no companion save his sighs he walked, 
 Plain leading on to plain, hill following dale, 
 While round him waxed the day in fervent heat 
 Which ripened the red grapes upon the vines. 
 Fainting and foodless through the weary hours, 
 With parching throat and aching eyes, and limbs 
 Trembling with pain, under the burning sun 
 Zobeir still followed steadfast on his quest ; 
 Till the day waned at last, and like the kiss 
 Forgiveness gives remorse, the evening's cool 
 Descended on his throbbing brow. The stars 
 Unveiled themselves in heaven one by one ; 
 The fine acacia leaves folded themselves 
 For sleep ; the grass washed with its tears his feet; 
 And yet Zobeir pressed onward, till at last 
 He saw upon a hillside set with trees 
 A pitched tent and a kindled fire. 
 
I 86 THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. 
 
 He crept, 
 Eager yet fearsome, through the sheltering trees, 
 Dragging his weary feet with cautious steps, 
 When suddenly upon the night air broke 
 The sound of singing, and his heart stood still 
 Because it was Sakina's voice which sang. 
 A melting sadness mingled in the lay 
 With piercing sweetness, as of hearts which break. 
 Only the white-winged angel Israfael, 
 Whose heart-strings are a lute, the sweetest voiced 
 Of Allah's creature's, might surpass that song. 
 Listening, Zobeir felt his tears dropping down 
 As pearls fall from a broken cord ; while she, 
 Unseen yet loved, sang to a rebec thus : 
 
 " As a leaf that is tossed on the wind, 
 As a lost tear the ocean waves drink, 
 Are we blown on the whirlwinds of life, 
 In the billows of fate do we sink. 
 
 " For the word that has flown from the lip, 
 And the love from the heart doth outflow, 
 Even Allah Himself may not bind, 
 Wherever they hasten for woe ! ' 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. I 87 
 
 And hardly had the song died on the air 
 When two tall Arabs came from forth the tent, 
 And stood beside the thicket where Zobeir 
 Crouched full of ecstasy to hear those tones. 
 
 " Nay," cried out one in voice of rage ; " no more 
 
 Thy words can stay me. We have left the tribe, 
 
 And have this charmer here alone." 
 
 "Not so," 
 
 The other answered ; cc since the tribe must be 
 
 Wherever we may be, and we are sent 
 
 To do its mission. It has trusted us 
 
 To bring this maid to Asim, he who now 
 
 Is but the Caliph's brother, yet shall be, 
 
 When the new moon is come, Caliph himself. 
 
 This gift shall win high favor for our tribe, 
 
 And show him how fate from his brother takes 
 
 To give into his hand, as it shall give 
 
 The kingdom and the sceptre. Let not now 
 
 Thy headstrong and unbridled passion bring 
 
 All our conspiracies to naught. So soon 
 
 We shall have sacked the Caliph's palace, shared 
 
 His slave girls and his wealth, that thou shalt have 
 
 Damsels enough without this singer. Now 
 
 Thy heart can bridle its fierce love, — and shall ! ' 
 
1 88 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 " But where is damsel with a voice like this ? " 
 He cried; "with bosoms like twin ostrich eggs; 
 With mole upon her temple like black pearl ; 
 With blush like wine held to the light ? Her eyes 
 Are whirlpools where despairing hearts are drawn 
 To swift destruction ! While her voice in song 
 So sweet, so potent, so subduing is 
 That it could charm the angel Asrael 
 Till he forbore to smite though Allah bade ! 
 What is this Asim then to me, that I 
 Should lose the fairest woman earth has known 
 To make him Caliph?" 
 
 So with windy words, 
 Hot as a lion's breath, they quarrelled there, 
 While close behind them crouched Zobeir, and heard 
 Of Asim's treason till he knew the whole. 
 Long the two Arabs talked, one fierce to take 
 Sakina for his own, while cunningly 
 The other played upon him, dazzling him 
 With pledge of spoil and damsels should be his 
 When they had slain the Caliph ; till at last 
 He cried, in acquiescence full of greed: 
 
 " Let it be so. To Asim we will bear 
 This night-dispelling maid, and haste again 
 
THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. I 89 
 
 To join our tribe ; for this old moon is worn 
 Almost to a thin thread, and with the new 
 Comes our reward. I stay my thirst till then ; 
 But then I shall drink fountains dry ! Oh, then 
 Not one maid for my arms, but scores ! '' 
 
 "And so," 
 The other said, " it shall be. Now to sleep ; 
 Since we must ride under the morning star." 
 
I9O THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 IV 
 
 The silence of the night fell round Zobeir ; 
 The wasted moon above 'mid the white stars 
 Watched like the eye of fate what should be done. 
 His weak hand trembled, while upon his brow 
 The drops stood thick and cold. Long crouched he 
 
 there, 
 Then rose at last and crept toward the tent, 
 While thronging shadows followed him like djinns. 
 
 " Alas ! My strength is gone/' he groaned in heart, 
 
 " Like the lost firmness of a withered reed! 
 
 My hand is empty ; oh, had I but here 
 
 The meanest weapon ! " 
 
 At the word his foot 
 
 Trod on a wood-knife by the dying fire. 
 
 Almost a cry of joy burst from his lips 
 
 As he laid hold upon the weapon. Strength 
 
 Came back to him, and weakness seemed to fall 
 
 From off him as one drops a beggar's robe 
 
 Which hid his armor till in such disguise 
 
 He gained the hostile camp. Stealthy as shame, 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. I9I 
 
 He slid like a thin shadow to the door, 
 
 Undid the curtain fastenings, and slipped through 
 
 Into the dim-lit tent. 
 
 With eyes which shone 
 Above her veil as from the covert shine 
 The eyes of hurt gazelle, Sakina sat 
 Leaning against the tent- pole while she watched. 
 He laid his finger on his lip, and she, 
 As if she knew his face and welcomed him, 
 Pointed with slender finger, guiding him 
 Where it was safe to step. 
 
 Through the dark tent 
 As steals a dream upon a sleeper, swift 
 Zobeir stole on one robber, and thrust through 
 His throat ere he could wake. The other sprang, 
 Awakened by the blow, and caught his sword, 
 Shouting the war-cry of the tribe, but fell 
 Cleft to the chin, the word yet half unsaid. 
 
 Then veiled Sakina leaped up joyously, 
 And ran unto Zobeir, and bowed herself 
 With mingled tears and laughter. 
 
 cc O my lord," 
 She cried in tones sweet as from silver cup 
 
I92 THE VOICE OF SAKIXA. 
 
 Are struck by wand of ebony ; £C I said 
 Within my heart that hadst thou not been slain, 
 Thou wouldst have rescued me; and from the dead 
 Aliah hath raised thee, and the word is true ! ' 
 
 cc There is no god save Allah,'* said Zobeir ; 
 
 "Surely it is His hand hath led me on 
 
 And given strength to strike ; but now I faint. 
 
 I pray thee give me food and drink, — but lift 
 
 Not from thy love-compelling face thy veil. 
 
 It is not lawful I should look on her 
 
 Who is the Caliph's. " 
 
 But within his heart 
 
 He dared not see her loveliness, lest so 
 
 The cord of self-restraint slip from his grasp. 
 
 Therefore she served him veiled, and gave him food, 
 
 Stale wheaten cakes and dates as dry as dust, 
 
 With draughts of sour wine which kept the tang 
 
 Of goat-skin bottle, — yet to him it seemed 
 
 Like angels' food, brought by Sakina's hand. 
 
 And while he ate, she spoke of what befell 
 When he was left as dead and she was borne 
 Unto the bandits' camp. She told how all 
 Made ready for revolt, and openly 
 
THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. 
 
 193 
 
 Boasted that Asim to their hands would give 
 The Caliph's palace for a spoil, with wealth 
 Of gold and slaves to pay their treason's price. 
 
 " These whom thy glorious hand hath slain," she said., 
 
 " Were sent to Asim that they learn his will ; 
 
 And I was chosen from the spoil, a gift 
 
 Which should delight his eyes and win, perchance, 
 
 Favor and pardon if upon the day 
 
 When Asim falls on Bagdad with his hordes 
 
 As falls the locust plague on ripening grain, 
 
 The tribe should ravage other palaces 
 
 Not given to their hand by his consent. 
 
 As sure and greedy reach they for the spoil 
 
 As hungry boys reach out to pluck ripe figs ! " 
 
 " Now, by the Prophet's beard ! " cried out Zobeir, 
 
 " There is a serpent in that fig-tree hid, 
 
 Shall sting them in the plucking ! " 
 
 Thus they talked, 
 
 And when the night before the morning paled 
 
 As one might pale who saw death drawing near, 
 
 Zobeir saddled the tethered horses, steeds 
 
 Thin flanked, slim limbed, full breasted, barbs which 
 
 moved 
 
 1 3 
 
IQ4 THE V0ICE 0F SAKINA. 
 
 Beneath the rider like a bounding wave ; 
 And they rode onward, over hill and dale, 
 The way to Bagdad. 
 
 Ever as they rode 
 He fought with his hot heart, a strife more hard 
 Than had been combat with his fiercest foe. 
 And as they checked their steeds, once and again 
 Sakina's crystal voice, like lark escaped 
 From out its cage, broke forth in joyous song. 
 But with excuse that lurking foes might hear, 
 He hushed the sound which pierced his very soul. 
 
 And once behind her veil she sang this song, 
 As if her heart and voice communed alone : 
 
 cc The diver dared the swirling deeps, 
 And brought the pearl to day ; 
 Then laid it in his monarch's hand, 
 His tribute thus to pay. 
 
 "Ah, diver, hadst thou kept the pearl 
 Thou from the deeps did bring, 
 Possessed of that, though now a slave, 
 Thou then hadst been a king ! ' 
 
THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. 1 95 
 
 " Peace ! " cried Zobeir ; " I must not hear thy voice. 
 Already it hath madness in me wrought 
 And kindled love ! " 
 
 While in his heart he said: 
 
 " Doth she not tempt me ? " 
 
 So he drew apart, 
 And spoke no more to her, but rested not 
 Till he had brought her to the Caliph safe. 
 
I96 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 V 
 
 So came Zobeir to Bagdad, and as one 
 Who lays his life down, to the Caliph gave 
 The damsel he had brought ; and told him all 
 That had befallen. Flame-keen was the wrath 
 Which filled the Caliph when he heard. 
 
 " Be quick ! " 
 He cried. <c Let twice ten companies go forth 
 And sweep the land as with a besom ! Leave 
 Not one of all that bandit spawn alive ! 
 Search every crevice in the hills, and dig 
 Into the bowels of the nether earth 
 Rather than one escape. ,, 
 
 Then to Zobeir, 
 Who waited in his presence, graciously 
 tie turned the face of royal favor. 
 
 "Thou," 
 He said, fC shalt wear the robe of honor. Speak ; 
 Tell unto me thy very heart's desire." 
 
 " May my soul be a ransom for thy feet, 
 Commander of the Faithful," said Zobeir, 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 197 
 
 With downcast eyes. " Alas ! within my breast 
 The restless wasp of unfulfilled desire 
 Still stings without surcease. Bid me go forth, 
 And wander through the world, till I may find 
 Some respite from this pain, some healing balm 
 May cure the smarting wound." 
 
 " Nay, by my beard," 
 The Caliph answered; "dost thou think I hold 
 So lightly service such as thine ? I lose 
 A host in losing thee. Tell me thy woe. 
 Haply I may bring comfort, for my hand 
 May even reach so high as the top bough 
 Upon life's tree, to pluck for thee that fruit 
 Which thou despairest of." 
 
 " No hand for me," 
 Zobeir said, cc plucks that fruit for which I die. 
 I love one whom I have not seen ; I pine 
 For one whom I may never look upon. 
 Love bears me on like an unbridled steed, 
 Yet am I like to one who loves a dream. 
 I heard an unseen damsel sing, and fate 
 Hath wrought such madness in me that all peace 
 Is fled like arrow shot from a strong bow. 
 Honor's cold gem I snatched from love's hot flame 
 
I98 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 Since I was faithful to my trust ; and yet 
 I am as a torn page in sorrow's book ! " 
 
 cc Yet tell me what divinest maid unseen 
 Hath kindled thus thine heart. The Caliph's arm 
 May reach afar ; strong is the Caliph's hand. 
 Speak thou this rose-embodied zephyr's name." 
 
 Pale grew Zobeir as maid who lifts the cloth 
 From a dead face and sees her lover slain. 
 
 cc Lord of my life," he cried, fC not mine the fault ! 
 
 Sakina's voice hath flown into my heart 
 
 As a bold swallow flies into a mosque. 
 
 I have not raised her veil, or sought to see 
 
 With love-delirious eyes her matchless face. 
 
 Allah hath sent this doom upon me ; thou 
 
 Canst not be angry though I love thy slave. 
 
 For I have kept my faith, and thou shouldst pour 
 
 The oil of pity on my smarting wounds ! ' 
 
 The Caliph stood in silence, hearing all 
 
 With face which showed no more his secret thought 
 
 Than shows the palace wall what is within. 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. I GO 
 
 The moments fell like ashes from a brand; 
 While hotly beat the sad heart of Zobeir. 
 
 cc But whither," asked the Caliph, cc wouldst thou go ? ' 
 
 " All roads are one to him who seeks a grave, 
 
 He shall not miss his goal," Zobeir replied. 
 
 "But I will seek some trysting-place of swords. 
 
 I will drink war like wine ; wed spear and shield. 
 
 When in the long array of battle stand 
 
 The warriors like the lashes of a maid, 
 
 And horn and cymbals shout, then man is man, 
 
 His own true, godlike self, and may forget 
 
 The petty passions that have snared his heart 
 
 In the poor days of peace! I may forget, 
 
 When war shrieks in mine ears, that witching voice 
 
 Which now rings through my soul. He whose lips 
 
 thirst 
 To drink of valor's cup, forgets love's draught." 
 
 <c Alas," the Caliph said, "how weak is man ! 
 Doom bends him as the breeze sways rising smoke ; 
 His best endeavor alters not his fate 
 More than the wind turns from its course the beam. 
 
200 THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. 
 
 The palace of his hope, when destiny 
 
 Smites with its blast, proves frail as spider's house. 
 
 But I will be thine aid. What thou hast done 
 
 Is in the tablets of remembrance set ; 
 
 Yet there is still a thing to do ere thou 
 
 Canst wear the robe of honor I shall give. 
 
 Go thou to Cun. Take what band thou wil 
 
 Bring me the head of Asim." 
 
 Cf Nay," Zobeir 
 Made answer, cc none shall share with me this quest. 
 What needs a soldier save his heart and sword ? 
 If so be Allah to my hand will give 
 The traitor, it is well ; — and it is well 
 If He hath meant this mission for my death." 
 
 So on the second day he rode alone, 
 
 Like one who flees, and can endure no more. 
 
 Bagdad was like a pool of burning flame 
 
 Since there Sakina was another's joy. 
 
 The world seemed space too small to put between 
 
 His heart and this great torture, though he knew 
 
 The heart bears its woe with it where it goes. 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. 201 
 
 VI 
 
 Lonely to Cufa went Zobeir his way ; 
 
 But when he came he found not Asim. Doubt 
 
 Had filled the traitor's heart when from the tribes 
 
 Came not the messengers, slain by Zobeir; 
 
 Since he who hatches treason fears unfaith 
 
 Even in those knit closest to his heart. 
 
 So Asim had set forth to seek the hills ; 
 
 And thither turned Zobeir to follow him, 
 
 Caring not where he went or what befell 
 
 So only he brake not his loyalty. 
 
 And ever as he went he thought of her. 
 Her voice clung like a jewel to his ear; 
 Her presence compassed him about like light. 
 Where lonely palm-trees lift their tufted fans 
 Against the keen blue sky, he musing rode ; 
 Or where the thick-set stars lit up his way 
 Along some mountain gorge, enwrapt he went, 
 In waking dreams of her. The long day through, 
 Weary of life apart from her, he sighed: 
 
202 THE VOICE OF S A KIN A. 
 
 " O lingering day, why are thine hours so long ! 
 Thy sun is like a tired runner, spent 
 Ere half his course is passed. Oh, hasten on, 
 And bring the blessed night ! " 
 
 By night he cried : 
 
 " O lagging night, thou dost not onward move ! 
 
 The Pleiads hang like clusters on a tree, 
 
 And drop not down the sky. O day, come soon ! ' 
 
 It chanced one nightfall that he paused at dusk 
 To eat his evening meal beside a grove 
 Of great chinar-trees ; and as lone he sat, 
 His horse beside him cropping the short grass, 
 He strove to ease his sorrow with a song, 
 While hot tears to his eyelids pressed like doves 
 Which beat against their prison to be free. 
 
 " Oh, let night speak of me, for day 
 
 Knows not how breaks with woe my heart; 
 Day knows not how I mournful stray, 
 Weeping for thee, so dear thou art. 
 
 " The sad night weeps with me, and lays 
 Her tear-wet cheek against my own ; 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 203 
 
 Although I walk in sun-lit ways, 
 
 Still doth my heart in darkness moan. 
 
 " The night shall speak of me, and say 
 All things to thee I dare not show; 
 And to thy dreams my love display, 
 Till thou art melted by my woe ! ' 
 
 And as he sang, from forth the covert crept 
 One in a garb had once been princely, now 
 Torn as by thorns and stained by way-faring. 
 Hunger and fear looked from the stranger's face 
 Like scared wolves from the thicket. Totteringly 
 He came and knelt before Zobeir, and bowed 
 His forehead in the dust, and trembling said: 
 
 cc Surely we are twin bubbles borne upon 
 The bitter billows of the sea of woe; 
 Therefore thou shouldst be pitiful to me. 
 There is no god save Allah ; by His ruth 
 I supplicate thy mercy, thou who art 
 A tree of hope in this world's garden. Lo, 
 I cast my life into thy hand ; do thou 
 Preserve it as thine own, lest at the last 
 Allah should hold thee guilty of my blood! ' 
 
20 4 
 
 THE VOICE OF SAKIXA. 
 
 "Think not/' Zobeir made answer, cc that my grief 
 Thou canst divine from that poor song. Let be, 
 In Allah's name, to ask ray secret pain. 
 It needs not that to make me pitiful. 
 Need is a plea for aid unanswerable. " 
 
 Then to the fainting he gave food and drink, 
 And after asked him: 
 
 " Whither dost thou come ? 
 And what hath brought thee to these bitter straits ? ' 
 
 The other bent and whispered, as he feared 
 The tall chinar-trees or the clustering shrubs 
 
 About their feet, might hear the word he spoke : 
 
 cc I am the Caliph's brother ; with the tribes 
 I plotted for his throne ; but he hath swept 
 The tribes from off the earth. Some secret voice, 
 Some traitor base who hath betrayed our trust, 
 Hath told him w T hat was done ; and not one man 
 Is left of all my followers : w r hile I 
 Have scarce escaped alive, and for three days 
 Have wandered foodless in the wilderness, 
 Till Allah sent thee to mine aid." 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 205 
 
 " And I," 
 Zobeir spoke, "have been sent to bring thine head 
 Unto the Caliph." 
 
 For a breathing space 
 Asim was silent, while his burning eyes 
 Were wild with horror and despair ; but then 
 The passion of his fear broke forth. He fell 
 To grovel in the dust, and kissed the hem 
 Of his pursuer's robe. 
 
 "Now Allah judge," 
 He cried, " betwixt us in the Day of Fear ! 
 I trusted to thy mercy, and my lip 
 Tastes yet thy salt." 
 
 "Nay," said Zobeir, "I gave 
 No food in covenant of friendship. Alms, 
 In Allah's name, I gave the starving one. 
 Yet think not, Asim, that I seek thy life, 
 As thou hast sought thy brother's. I will plead, 
 When we are come to him, that he forgive." 
 
 But Asim wept with scalding tears, in dust 
 Abasing his ignoble head, which once 
 Had been more proud than top of cypress tree; 
 Pleading for life with passion so inflamed 
 
206 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 That half Zobeir was moved by pity, half 
 
 Stirred by contempt, until he swore to guard 
 
 The life of Asim as his own. Yet though 
 
 The traitor urged him sore that he might flee, 
 
 Zobeir consented not that he escape ; 
 
 But brought him bound to Bagdad. There he fell 
 
 Before the Caliph's feet. 
 
 " Lo, I am come," 
 
 He said; "and bring thee Asim here, thy foe, 
 As once I brought Sakina, that fair maid 
 Worthy to wear green robes in Paradise." 
 
 "Thou hast done well," the Cdiph made reply; 
 <c Say now what recompense will please thee well. 
 Shall it be jewels or fair singing-girls, 
 Or gold or robes of honor ? " 
 
 But Zobeir 
 Unmoved made answer : 
 
 cc The one boon I crave 
 Is but thy brother's life ; for I have sworn, 
 When he had, fainting in the wilderness, 
 No food save hunger and no drink but thirst, 
 To count his safety and mine own as one." 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. 207 
 
 The Caliph's brow foreboded coming storm. 
 
 <c Art thou, too, turned a traitor ? Is the pearl 
 Of thy fidelity thus stained, that thou 
 Shouldst plead for him who would have slain thy 
 lord ? " 
 
 "Nay," he made answer ; " I have proved my truth. 
 
 My lord, I am thy slave to do thy will ; 
 
 To eat the bread of sorrow if thou wilt 
 
 And drink the waters of affliction. Yet 
 
 Above thy state is Allah, in whose name 
 
 I swore to save this man alive, or give 
 
 My useless life for his, since he has thrown 
 
 The arms of trust about my neck. My life 
 
 I offer thee for his. This world goes by, 
 
 And nothing in it is of worth enough 
 
 To buy man's honor, though his truth may burn 
 
 His heart as with a flame." 
 
 For such a time 
 
 As one unharmed might hold a lighted brand 
 
 They stood there face to face ; then to the guard 
 
 The Caliph gave his brother, while he led 
 
 Zobeir into his closet. 
 
 cc List ! " he said. 
 
20S THE VOICE OF SAKIXA. 
 
 From some near inner chamber joyous came 
 
 The sound of song which flew like lark light-winged. 
 
 Fluttered and sank and rose and fell again, 
 
 Till all the air seemed sweet with fragrancies, 
 
 And quick with the remembrances of love. 
 
 It was Sakina's voice which sang within, 
 
 Piercing the sad heart of Zobeir with shaft 
 
 Of anguish tipped with keenest point of bliss. 
 
 She sang this song wherein a maiden tells 
 
 Her warrior-lover's might and gentleness : 
 
 fc When my love shouts in war, 
 
 Men think the trumpet blows ; 
 His henchmen thrill with awe, 
 While terror strikes his foes. 
 But when into my ear 
 
 He murmurs words of love, 
 My heart stands still to hear 
 That voice like cooing dove. 
 
 cc When my love wields his brand 
 None may oppose his might ; 
 None may his strength withstand, 
 And champions take to flight. 
 
THE VOICE OF SARIN A. 200, 
 
 But when his hand he lavs 
 With softest touch on mine, 
 
 I think a zephyr stays 
 To give me kisses fine ! " 
 
 And as he listened ecstasy and pain 
 Struggled together in Zobeir's full heart 
 Like dove and falcon grappling in mid-air, 
 Falling and righting as they fall. 
 
 " Tell me," 
 The Caliph said, " dost thou not know that voice ? " 
 
 <c Nay," cried Zobeir, with proudly lifted head, 
 Though he was pale as withered cyclamen. 
 " Such a voice knew I once ; but from the day 
 When she who sang was by my Caliph claimed, 
 I have forbid my soul to think of her, 
 Or to remember that she ever was ! " 
 
 " When thou hadst gone," the Caliph made reply, 
 
 " To do my hest at Cufa, I beheld 
 
 The fair face of Sakina, and my heart 
 
 Was hers to tread upon if so she would ; 
 
 My spirit cried for her as desert sand 
 
 Thirsts for the dew of night ; or as the night 
 
 14 
 
2IO THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 Yearns for the morning. But the torch of love 
 She lighted not for me. Day after day 
 In the fair garden of her lips the rose 
 Faded ; the round pomegranates of her cheeks 
 Wasted to thinness ; and I knew her heart 
 Pined for some other, for some lover far. 
 So when I questioned, at my feet she poured 
 The treasures of her hair, weeping like rain. 
 1 Lord of my life, 1 she said, ( may my soul be 
 Thy ransom in the Day of Fear ! Pardon, 
 And pity me ; for he who saved my life 
 There in the desert, — he who followed far 
 And saved again from bondage in the hills, 
 Bears my heart with him wheresoe'er he goes, 
 Although he knows it not. I would lay down 
 My very life to see him smile ; or bear 
 Tortures of living flame to bring him joy 
 For one brief moment ! Pity me, my lord ! ' 
 With tears in mine own eyes I raised from earth 
 That weeping moon of love, lodestone of hearts, 
 Strangling my passion ere its birth-cry broke. 
 c Lo, his,' I said, c shall be thy love. To him 
 Thou shalt be given as his guerdon, when 
 He comes again from Cufa.' And she waits, 
 
THE VOICE OF S AKIN A. 2 I I 
 
 Glowing with love and hope as with twin flames 
 A silver lamp. Give me my brother's life. 
 And take instead — Sakina ! " 
 
 Through his lip 
 Zobeir set his white teeth ; upon his brow 
 Stood drops as thick as rain ; while from his eyes 
 Such agony burned forth the Caliph turned, 
 And would not look on him. Yet he stood firm. 
 And steadfast said : 
 
 " The robe of infamy 
 Clothe me if I abandon his distress. 
 Even for love man may not sell his truth ! " 
 
 " Nay," said the Caliph, "bid thy fancy dwell 
 Upon the melting ripeness of her lip, 
 On the fine fragrance of her night of hair, 
 On the high hollow of her instep's arch, 
 On the entreating glances of her eye, 
 On her neck's slender column, on the swell 
 Of her round bosoms like a citron globed, 
 On her slim fingers, whose caressing touch 
 Were joy too dear for word, on her clear voice,, 
 Whose spell already holds thee in its snare ! ' 
 
2 I 2 THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 
 
 Zobeir bowed low his head as if his heart 
 Could not endure to hear. 
 
 cc Spare me ! " he groaned. 
 <c Art thou the tempter Eblis, that thou thus 
 Wouldst have me break my faith for earthly joys? 
 Love is for life, but honor for all time ! '* 
 
 " Nay ; honor passes ; only love endures/' 
 The Caliph said. cc Love is eternity ! " 
 
 Again Sakina's voice uprose. 
 
 " Listen ! " 
 The Caliph said again. 
 
 Yet once again 
 That voice beat at the bosom of Zobeir 
 Like storm-tossed dove, entreating entrance there ; 
 Each note as sweet as hope yet sad as fate 
 Because love still delayed its longed for face. 
 
 " I said to the wind of the south : 
 c O gentle south wind, blow ! 
 
 Bear kisses to his mouth, 
 
 And greet him from me so ! ' 
 
 The gentle south wind blew, 
 With softly mournful sound ; 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 2 I 3 
 
 O'er hill and vale it flew, — 
 But my love it never found. 
 love, dear love, so long away, 
 While I am lone where dost thou stray ? 
 
 " I said to the wind of the west : 
 
 ' O sweet west wind, make haste, 
 And waken in his breast 
 
 Longing my lips to taste/ 
 The west wind swiftly sped, 
 
 With sobbing, moaning sound ; — 
 Ah, thou canst not be dead : 
 Then why art thou not found ? 
 love, dear love, so long away, 
 Come ; for I die if thou delay! " 
 
 " It is for thee she sings ! " into his ear 
 
 The Caliph breathed. <c Have pity on her pain, 
 
 And yield to me this boon, — which I might take 
 
 But that I love thee well." 
 
 Then in the dust 
 
 Zobeir cast himself down, crying with tears : 
 
 cc Oh, torture me no more! Love rends my heart; 
 But Asim trusted me ! I cannot break 
 My faith." 
 
2 14 THE V0ICE 0F S A KIN A. 
 
 The Caliph stooped and raised him up, 
 And kissed him on the cheek. 
 
 " Falsehood from thee 
 Is far as mountain-top from the sea's floor," 
 He said. cc I give thee Asim's life." 
 
 He smiled, 
 And looked with glowing glance upon Zobeir. 
 
 <c Sorrow hath loved thee as groom loves a bride; 
 And hope that soared like a light lark on high 
 Lies like a warbler dead upon the plain ; 
 But thou at least art true." 
 
 Then once again 
 He kissed him on the cheek still wet with tears, 
 And softly to him said the one word : 
 
 " Come ! " 
 
 Zobeir followed him blindly, knowing not 
 Whither he went, till they were come in truth 
 To that rich chamber where Sakina sang. 
 There he at last beheld his love ; a maid 
 Straight as the letter Alif ; slight and lithe, 
 A heart-enticing one, with lips as red 
 As the pomegranate's pulp ; with brows of jet 
 
THE VOICE OF SAKINA. 2 I 5 
 
 Lined on a forehead white as mountain snows ; 
 With eyes in lustre like the Pleiades. 
 
 Zobeir stood mute with mingled love and woe; 
 While sweet Sakina gazed with startled glance. 
 Then as she rose as springs a fountain jet 
 Into the golden sunlight, in his own 
 The Caliph took her small hand, feather-soft, 
 And led her to Zobeir. 
 
 " Behold," he said, 
 " Sakina's voice and her sweet self are thine ! " 
 
 The End. 
 


LIBRARY OF CONGRPcc 
 
 f Iff Bill,, 
 
 016 211 501 7 w