CANTO THE FIRST VIII |
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CANTO THE FIRSTVIII
In silence bow`d the virgin`s head;
And if her eye was fill`d with tears
That stifled feeling dare not shed,
And changed her cheek to pale to red,
And red to pale, as through her ears
Those winged words like arrows sped,
What could such be but maiden fears?
So bright the tear in Beauty`s eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of Bashfulness,
Even Pity scarce can wish it less!
Whate`er it was the sire forgot;
Or if remember`d, mark`d it not;
Thrice clapp`d his hands, and call`d his steed,
Resign`d his gem-adorn`d chibouque,
And mounting featly for the mead,
With Maugrabee and Mamaluke,
His way amid his Delis took,
To witness many an active deed
With sabre keen, or blunt jerreed.
The Kislar only and his Moors
Watch well the Haram`s massy doors.
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