Page:The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Vol 8.djvu/94

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By the scorpions that he launches from his ringlet-clustered brows, Seeking still to slay his lovers with his rigours unaware,
By the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheek, By his lips’ incarnate rubies and his teeth’s fine pearls and rare,
By the straight and tender sapling of his shape, which for its fruit Doth the twin pomegranates, shining in his snowy bosom, wear,
By his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose, And the slender waist above them, all too slight their weight to bear,
By the silk of his apparel and his quick and sprightly wit, By all attributes of beauty that are fallen to his share;
Lo, the musk exhales its fragrance from his breath, and eke the breeze From his scent the perfume borrows, that it scatters everywhere.
Yea, the sun in all his splendour cannot with his brightness vie And the crescent moon’s a fragment that he from his nails doth pare.

Night dccclxviii.Her verses pleased him and he swayed from side to side for drunkenness and fell a-praising her and saying:

A luting maiden stole away Our wits for drunkenness one day.
‘’Twas God the Lord that gifted us With speech,’ her strings to us did say.

When she heard this, she looked at him with eyes of love and redoubled in passion and desire for him increased upon her, and indeed she marvelled at his beauty and grace and symmetry, so that she could not contain herself, but took the lute again and sang the following:

He chides me, if I look on him, and with disdain Entreats me, though my life is his for weal and bane;
Yea, he repelleth me; yet what is in my heart He knows, as if God’s self to him had made it plain.
His likeness have I drawn midmost my palm and charged Mine eyes make moan for him and over him complain.
Mine eyes will look on none save him, nor will my heart Aid me his cruelty with patience to sustain.
Wherefore, O thou my heart, I’ll tear thee from my breast, For that thou art of those that envy me the swain.
Whenas I say, ‘O heart, be comforted,’ ’tis vain; To turn to any else than him it will not deign.