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beauty and symmetry, for she was even as saith the poet of her:
There came a lovely maid, whose mouth did dews like honey bear, Yea, and her glances keener far than Indian sabres were.
She put the willow-wand to shame with graceful swaying gait; The lightning from her teeth did flash, whenas she smiled, my fair.
Her cheeks I likened to the rose in blossom; but she laughed In scorn and answered, “He who to the rose doth me compare
And eke pomegranates with my breasts likeneth, hath he no shame? How should pomegranates branches have, my breasts for fruits that wear?
Now, by my grace, my eyes, my soul, ay, and the paradise Of my possession and the hell of my disdain, I swear,
If he to these comparisons return, I will my grace To him deny, nor with my scorn to blast him will I spare!
They say, ‘A rose in garth a-bloom [is she;]’ but, nay, its flower Is not my cheek nor yet its branch my shape so straight and rare.
If in the gardens of his land the like of me there be, Why then, in quest thereof, forsooth, doth he to me repair?”
They ceased not to laugh and play, whilst Hassan stood watching them, forgetting meat and drink, till near the hour of afternoon-prayer, when the chief damsel said to her mates, ‘O kings’ daughters, it grows late and our country is distant and we have had enough of this place. Come, therefore, let us depart to our own place.’ So they put on their feather vests, and becoming birds as before, flew away all together, with the chief damsel in their midst. Then Hassan, despairing of their return, would have arisen and gone away, but could not move; wherefore the tears ran down his cheeks and passion was sore on him and he recited the following verses:
May I be denied the fulfilment o’ the troth that to me thou didst plight, If, since you departed and left me, I’ve tasted of slumber’s delight!
Mine eyes, since the days of your parting, have never been shut in repose, Nor, since you forsook me, hath slumber been pleasant or sweet to my spright.
