Then reign, fair prince! in thee all beauties shine,
And, ah! we know thee of no mortal line.'
She said: the king with rapid ardour glow'd,
And the swift poison through his bosom flow'd;
But, while she spoke, he cast his eyes around
To view the dazzling roof, and spangled ground;
Then, turning with amaze from side to side,
Seven golden doors, that richly shone, he spied,
And said, 'Fair nymph, (but let me not be bold)
What mean those doors that blaze with burnish'd gold?"
• To six gay bowers,' the maid replied, they lead,
Where spring eternal crowns the glowing mead;
Six fountains there, that glitter as they play,
Rise to the sun with many a colour'd ray.'
• But the seventh door,' said he, 'what beauties grace?"
'O'tis a cave; a dark and joyless place,
A scene of nameless deeds, and magic spells,
Where day ne'er shines, and pleasure never dwells:
Think not of that. But come, my royal friend,
And see what joys thy favour'd steps attend.'
She spoke; and pointed to the nearest door:
Swift he descends; the damsel flies before;
She turns the lock; it opens at command;
The maid and stripling enter hand in hand,
The wondering youth beheld an opening glade,
Where in the midst a crystal fountain play'd ;*
The silver sands, that at its bottom grew,
Were strown with pearls and gems of varied hue;
The diamond sparkled like the star of day,
And the soft topaz shed a golden ray;
Clear amethysts combin'd their purple gleam,
With the mild emerald's sight-refreshing beam ;
The sapphire smil'd like yon blue plain above,
And rubies spread the blushing tint of love..
These are the waters of eternal light,'
The damsel said, the stream of heavenly sight;
See in this cup, (she spoke, and stoop'd to fill
A vase of jasper with the sacred rill),
See how the living waters bound and shine,
Which this well-polish'd gem can scarce confine!'
From her soft hand, the lucid urn he took,
And quaff'd the nectar with a tender look;
Strait from his eyes a cloud of darkness flew,
And all the scene was open'd to his view :
Not all the groves, where ancient bards have told,
Of vegetable gems, and blooming gold;:
Not all the bowers which, oft, in flowery lays
And solemn tales, Arabian poets praise;
Though streams of honey flow'd through every mead,
Though balm and amber drop'd from every reed;
Held half the sweets that Nature's ample hand
Had pour'd luxuriant o'er this wond'rous land:
All flow'rets here their mingled rays diffuse,
The rainbow's tints to these were vulgar hues;
All birds that in the stream their pinions dip,
Or from the brink the liquid crystal sip,
Or shew their beauties to the sunny skies,
Here wav'd their plumes that shone with varying dyes;
But chiefly he, that o'er the verdant plain
Spreads the gay eyes which grace his spangled train;
And he, who proudly sailing, loves to shew
His mantling wings, and neck of downy snow;
Nor absent he, who learns the human sound,
With wavy gold, and moving emeralds crown'd;
Whose head and breast with polish'd sapphires glow,
And on whose wing the gems of Indus grow.
The monarch view'd their beauties o'er and o'er,
He was all eye, and look'd from every pore.
But now the damsel calls him from his trance;
And o'er the lawn, delighted, they advance:
They pass the hall adorn'd with royal state,
And enter now with joy, the second gate.*
A soothing sound he heard, (but tasted first The gushing stream that from the valley burst,) And in the shade beheld a youthful quire That touch'd with flying hands the trembling lyre : Melodious notes, drawn out with magic art, Caught with sweet ecstasy his ravish'd heart; An hundred nymphs their charming descants play'd, And melting voices died along the glade; The tuneful stream that murmur'd as it rose, The birds that on the trees bewail'd their woes, The boughs, made vocal by the whispering gale, Join'd their soft strain, and warbled through the vale. The concert ends: and now the stripling hears A tender voice that strikes his wondering ears; A beauteous bird, in our rude climes unknown, That on a leafy arbour sits alone,
Strains his sweet throat, and waves his purple wings, And thus in human accents softly sings :
Rise, lovely pair, a sweeter bower invites
Your eager steps, a bower of new delights ;
Ah! crop the flowers of pleasure, while they blow,
Ere winter hides them in a veil of snow.
Youth, like a thin anemone, displays
His silken leaf, and in a morn decays.
See, gentle youth! a lily-bosom'd bride ;
See, nymph! a blooming stripling by thy side.
Then haste, and bathe your souls in soft delights,
A sweeter bower your wand'ring steps invites.'
He ceas'd; the slender branch, from which he flew, Bent its fair head, and sprinkled pearly dew. The damsel smil'd; the blushing youth was pleas'd, And by her willing hand his charmer seiz'd: The lovely nymph, who sigh'd for sweeter joy, To the third gate* conducts the amorous boy; She turns the key; her cheeks like roses bloom, And on the lock her fingers drop perfume.
His ravish'd sense a scene of pleasure meets, A maze of joy, a paradise of sweets; But first his lips had touch'd th' alluring stream, That through the grove display'd a silver gleam. Through jasmine bowers, and violet-scented vales, On silken pinions flew the wanton gales; Arabian odours on the plants they left, And whisper'd to the woods their spicy theft : Beneath the shrubs that spread a trembling shade, The musky roes, and fragrant civets play'd. As when, at eve, an Eastern merchant roves From Hadramut to Aden's spikenard groves,
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