Classic Poem

1

She is all sweetness. Her long fingers seem
Pencils of silver, and so beautiful
Her presence, that she breathes of heaven and love.

2

Rudabeh smil'd; and all the scene was love.
Gracious their clasping hands together twine,
By love inflam'd, devoted to his shrine.
Now they descend, and to the palace move,
Attended by the slave who knew their love.
The gay illuminations gild the scene;
All was elysium, splendid, yet serene!
Zal more amaz'd, all glowing with desire,
Gaz'd on her eyes, which beam'd celestial fire;
Her hair, her face, and ev'ry op'ning bloom,
Catch his fond soul, and fix the lover's doom.
In tissue drest, the sparkling necklace glows,
The bracelet on her hand new beauty throws.
In her small ear the pendant jewels blaze,
And ev'ry gem of variegated rays.
Bright as the various garden of the spring,
Melodious as when nature's songsters sing.
Not even roses on Arabian gales,
Thus scent the air, or fill the passing sails.
On the same couch they sit: on Zal's high head
A crown of rubies and of gems was spread.
With flow'rs diversify'd his ringlets wave,
And his bright form confess'd the warrior brave.
Rudabeh blush'd, and in her conscious eye
Blazed the fierce rapture, and the am'rous sigh;
On all his charms, his eminence, she gaz'd;
Hung o'er his manly form, and much she prais'd:
She bids him rise; now stung with keen desires,
Their fond embraces speak th'internal fires.
Bliss smil'd enchanting, and with rapture warm,
Around them love diffus'd his brightest charm:
Thus the fierce lion bounding o'er the deer,
In playful fondness chases ev'ry fear.

*****

Lost was each sense, dissolv'd in soft delight,
And love increases from the gazing sight:
Thus passed the fleeting hours, till the gray dawn
Beheld the sun just peeping o'er the lawn.
Till from afar the silver tabors play;
The lovers part; their pensive sighs display
The pang it gave: while tears o'erflow the face,
Their love was pictur'd in the fond embrace.
To the bright orb, " Intruding light! " they cry,
" Why early spangle all the morning sky?
" Why thus our bliss, our happier hours destroy,
" And close with pain the raptur'd scenes of joy? "