Page:The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Vol 8.djvu/38

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Raiment of silk I’ll have of thee And costly damasks, many an ell,
And musk four quintals, pearls of price, Cornelians uncountable,
Silver and gold and trinkets fine And jewelled gauds I’ll have as well;
One night of my possession these Shall buy: I’ll bate no particle.’
I showed fair patience, though, God wot, For fires of love I was in hell,
And she to bless me deigned one night The new moon’s radiance on us fell.
If th’ envious blame me, ‘List, O folk,’ Quoth I, ‘to that I have to tell.
Long locks hath she, as black as night, And in her cheeks a rose doth dwell,
As red as very flames of fire: Her looks are arrows sharp and snell,
And in her lashes is a sword That serves her lovers to repel.
Wine in her mouth is and her lips With dews like limpid water well.
Her teeth are like a necklace strung With pearls of price, fresh from the shell.
Her neck, perfected in all grace, Is as the neck of a gazelle.
As marble white her bosom is, Wherein, like towers, her breasts do swell.
Her belly hath a fold perfumed With essences invaluable;
And underneath it lies a thing, That is my wishes’ pinnacle;
Fat, plump, high-cushioned, O my lords, As ’twere a king’s throne, sooth to tell,
To whom I plain me of the woes My soul to madness that enspell.
Betwixten columns twain thou’lt find High benches set before the cell.
It hath such attributes as daze Men’s wits and wonderment compel;
Wide lips it hath and mouth, to boot, As ’twere a mouth of mule or well;
An eye of red it shows and lips Like camel’s lips: its face doth swell,
For very redness, still with wrath. So look, O man, thou guard thee well.
If thou come to it with intent To do, thou’lt find it hot as hell,
Ardent of meeting and endowed With strength to battle fierce and fell;
And well I wot, each champion, eased Of lust of battle, ’twill repel.
Bytimes thou’lt find it with a beard, As ’twere a man’s; another spell
Thou’lt find it beardless, hot with lust Of battle ’gainst the infidel.
One who is great of grace and sheen To thee of this doth tidings tell,
One from whom Zein herself alone For all perfection bears the bell. 
I came to her by night and got That which was sweet as œnomel;
Yea, and the night I lay with her Did all mine other nights excel.