To us comes the world with her favour so fair, * After frown and aversion and might despight! Hath planted her banner Good Fortune for us, * And we drink of her cup in the purest delight. We have met and complained of the pitiful Past, * And of nights a full many that doomed us to blight. But now, O my lady, the Past is forgot; * The Compassionate pardon the Past for unright! How sweet is existence, how glad is to be! * This union my passion doth only incite."
And when he ended his verses they once more embraced, drowned in the sea of passion; and lay down together in the private apartment carousing and conversing and quoting verses and telling pleasant tales and anecdotes. On this wise seven days passed over them whilst they knew not night from day and it was to them, for very stress of gaiety and gladness, pleasure and possession, as if the seven days were but one day with ne'er a morrow. Not did they know the seventh day, [FN#79] but by the coming of the singers and players on instruments of music; whereat Rose-in-Hood beyond measure wondered and improvised these couplets,
"In spite of enviers' jealousy, at end * We have won all we hoped of the friend: We've crowned our meeting with a close embrace * On quilts where new brocades with sendal blend; On bed of perfumed leather, which the spoils * Of downy birds luxuriously distend. But I abstain me from unneeded wine, * When honey-dews of lips sweet musk can lend: Now from the sweets of union we unknow * Time near and far, if slow or fast it wend, The seventh night hath come and gone, O strange! * How went the nights we never reckt or kenned; Till, on the seventh wishing joy they said, * 'Allah prolong the meet of friend with friend!'"
When she had finished her song, Uns al-Wujud kissed her, more than an hundred times, and recited these couplets,
