« PreviousContinue »
And here and there from golden urns arise,
As suits capricious luxury, invite
To sweet repose indeed each pleasure-laden wight.
the dance, the converse soft between, As fly the hours along with rapid pace. Lo! in her chair of state Golconda's Queen Sits goddess-like; majestic is her face, Yet mild, as well becomes her pride of place. Even Fatima in pomp of beauty ne'er Received fair Montague with such a grace As this all-beauteous queen withouten glare Of rank receives her guests-how winning is her air!
Profusely gay, the exuberance of joy
All feel-all feel their spirits mounting high!
Life seems to them, though death perchance be nigh.
Why should fair bosoms ever heave a sigh?
Are as medicinal balm when grief the heart o'erfills.
In whirls fantastical the waters dance,
Springing from fountains jasper-paved; the noon
Of pearl shines mildly o'er the vast saloon.
Thy quiet majesty? in sooth as soon
Might the poor pageantries of regal state
On earth, heaven's matchless splendours vainly emulate!
The banquet is prepared with sumptuous cost:
(So fine their art, the like was never found,)
And other delicate sprites in Eastern fables told!
As if "instinct with living spirits," sing
Would e'en the painter's shrewdest ken confuse.
Those who despise dear Nature's charms ;) and see As the boughs stir-the birds all join in harmony.
Wealth, inexhaustible as Danaë's shower,
That Innocence within her hair might weave
Cherish these deep-sown feelings, ye shall reap A harvest of delight, when Pride in dust shall sleep!
Not that I scorn this féte unparagon'd:
What cynic would destroy love's rosy bands?
Why marvel, then, that Youth their influence dreads, And basks him in the rays the sun of beauty sheds ? April, 1824.
"THE QUEEN OF GOLCONDA'S FETE."
P. 233, 1. 7.
Zamorim's palace is as a twinkling star.
See the seventh book of Camoëns' Lusiad.
P. 235, 1. 20.
Robed in all colours that the Pavone owns.
And wings it had with sondry colours dight,
More sondry colours than the proud Pavone
Bears in his boasted fan, or Iris bright;
When her discolour'd bow she bends through Heaven's height.
P. 236, 1. 3.
Like hues just caught from fair Ausonia's skies.
Largior hic campos æther et lumine vestit
"The setting sun produced the richest variety of tints in the opposite sky; among them was a lovely violet glow, rarely, if ever seen, in England."-DALLAWAY's Constantinople.
P. 236, 1. 15.
Even Fatima in pomp of beauty.
The following splendid description of the beauty and attractive manners of the "fair Fatima," is from Lady Mary Wortley Montague's Letters.