ful as purple shadows of the dawning sun. My eyes have beheld the raven locks of Persia's maidens, and I compared them to Leila; I dreamt of Jamshid's love. I have heard the love cry of Circassian slaves, and it was like Damascan silk torn by Damascan daggers. But thou art fairer than the earth; thee I must have, be thou houri or peri.
"The moon rises only for thee. Thy voice is like the nightingale's, thy breath like the wild jasmine of Lybia's distant shore. My heart is in thy hands, as is the clay in the hands of a potter.
"Thou art sweeter than the roses of Ispahan, the roses of a thousand leaves; thou art as graceful as the waving pines on Syrian hills. I love thee, thou daughter of Bedawin; I love thee. Thee I must have, or I die."
These were the words of Khassoum's great love—and the voice at his right said: "Khassoum, seek on."
But love had sealed his ears and he did not hear.
Aziza, the daughter of the Bedawin, listened to the words of his heart; she looked at him and he seemed comely in her eyes.
Then there were loud rejoicings among the Beda-
