Classic Poem

In the splendor of the harem,
From Janina's market brought,
Lies a beautiful Circassian,
By an unknown master bought.

She is dreaming of her Seignior,
And she fears he may be old,
Some visier bowed down and wrinkled,
Who will tempt her with his gold.

And she trembles at each footstep
Her quick ear detects without,
While her lily cheeks turn crimson,
And her mind is dark with doubt!

On divans of Alep satin,
By four stalwart Nubians fanned,
Leila counts her costly presents,
And the rings that grace her hand.

There are fredges deftly woven,
Red tarboushes sprent with pearls,
Gems and essence, spice and izars,
And great brilliants for her curls,

Sweetest flowers in rich profusion,
Foreign birds and luscious fruits,
While a host of slaves before her,
Thrum their soft, voluptuous lutes!

Her bright nails are pink with henneh,
She has tipped with k'hol each lash;
For they tell her he is coming,
And her eyes expectant flash!

" Ah! " she cries, " he must be beauteous,
His young years are in their bloom,
For I smell delicious attar,
'Tis like mine his loved perfume!

" There lurks magic in its fragrance,
Where the souls of roses rest,
And the mortal that adores it
By Mohammed's love is blest! "

Then the satin curtains open —
And she gazes in surprise
On her sire, who stands before her,
With admiring, starry eyes!

The unknown and dreaded master,
Fair of form and fair of face,
Is the mighty Sultan Ahmed,
The anointed of his race!


In the splendor of the harem
From Janina's market brought,
Lies a beautiful Circassian,
By a worshiped master bought!