Part 17

And how she cried, for life afraid, "Ya, Mohtasim! help, O my king!" And how the Kafir mocked the maid, And laughed, and spake a bitter thing, "Call louder, fool! Mohtasim's ears Are long as Barak's--if he heed-- Your prophet's ass; and when he hears, He'll come upon a spotted steed!"

The Caliph's face was stern and red, He snapped the lid upon the cup; "Keep this same sherbet, slave," he said, "Till such time as I drink it up. Wallah! the stream my drink shall be, My hollowed palm my only bowl, Till I have set that lady free, And seen that Roumi dog's head roll."

At dawn the drums of war were beat, Proclaiming, "Thus saith Mohtasim, 'Let all my valiant horsemen meet, And every soldier bring with him A spotted steed,'" So rode they forth, A sight of marvel and of fear; Pied horses prancing fiercely north; The crystal cup borne in the rear!

When to Ammoria he did win, He smote and drove the dogs of Roum, And rode his spotted stallion in, Crying, "Labbayki! I am come!" Then downward from her prison-place Joyful the Arab lady crept; She held her hair before her face, She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept.

She pointed where that lord was laid: They drew him forth, he whined for grace: Then with fierce eyes Mohtasim said-- "She whom thou smotest on the face Had scorn, because she called her king: Lo! he is come! and dost thou think To live, who didst this bitter thing While Mohtasim at peace did drink?"

Flashed the fierce sword--rolled the lord's head; The wicked blood smoked in the sand. "Now bring my cup!" the Caliph said. Lightly he took it in his hand, As down his throat the sweet drink ran Mohtasim in his saddle laughed, And cried, "Taiba asshrab alan! By God! delicious is this draught!"

HINDOO FUNERAL SONG.

Call on Rama! call to Rama! Oh, my brothers, call on Rama! For this Dead Whom we bring, Call aloud to mighty Rama.

As we bear him, oh, my brothers, Call together, very loudly, That the Bhûts May be scared; That his spirit pass in comfort.

Turn his feet now, calling "Rama," Calling "Rama," who shall take him When the flames Make an end: Ram! Ram!--oh, call to Rama.

SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS.

Come forth, oh, Snake! come forth, oh, glittering Snake! Oh shining, lovely, deadly Nâg! appear, Dance to the music that we make, This serpent-song, so sweet and clear, Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear, So soft and clear.

Oh, dread Lord Snake! come forth and spread thy hood, And drink the milk and suck the eggs; and show Thy tongue; and own the tune is good: Hear, Maharaj! how hard we blow! Ah, Maharaj! for thee we blow; See how we blow!

Great Uncle Snake! creep forth and dance to-day! This music is the music snakes love best; Taste the warm white new milk, and play Standing erect, with fangs at rest, Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest, Fierce fangs at rest.

Ah, wise Lord Nâg! thou comest!--Fear thou not! We make salaam to thee, the Serpent-King, Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot; Dance, Master! while we softly sing; Dance, Serpent! while we play and sing, We play and sing.

Dance, dreadful King! whose kisses strike men dead; Dance this side, mighty Snake! the milk is here!

Ah, shabash! pin his angry head! Thou fool! this nautch shall cost thee dear; Wrench forth his fangs! this piping clear, It costs thee dear!

SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL.

Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga! Pour the golden grain in; Those that twist the Churrak fastest The cakes soonest win: Good stones, turn! The fire begins to burn; Gunga, stay not! The hearth is nearly hot. Grind the hard gold to silver; Sing quick to the stone; Feed its mouth with dal and bajri, It will feed us anon.

Sing, Gunga! to the mill-stone, It helps the wheel hum; Blithesome hearts and willing elbows Make the fine meal come: Handsful three For you and for me; Now it falls white, Good stones, bite! Drive it round and round, my Gunga! Sing soft to the stone; Better corn and churrak-working Than idleness and none.

TAZA BA TAZA

Akbar sate high in the ivory hall, His chief musician he bade them call; Sing, said the king, that song of glee. Taza ba taza, now ba now. Sing me that music sweet and free, Taza ba taza, now ba now; Here by the fountain sing it thou, Taza ba taza, now ba now.

Bending full low, his minstrel took The Vina down from its painted nook. Swept the strings of silver so Taza ba taza, now ba now; Made the gladsome Vina go Taza ba taza, now ba now; Sang with light strains and brightsome brow Taza ba taza, now ba now.

"What is the lay for love most fit? What is the melody echoes it? Ever in tune and ever meet, Taza ba taza, now ba now; Ever delightful and ever sweet Taza ba taza, now ba now; Soft as the murmur of love's first vow, Taza ba taza, now ba now."

"What is the bliss that is best on earth? Lovers' light whispers and tender mirth; Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea's isle, But a brighter light has a woman's smile: Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue, Taza ba taza, now ba now; Ever, like sunset, splendid and new, Taza ba taza, now ba now."

"Thereunto groweth the graceful vine To cool the lips of lovers with wine, Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup, That happy lovers may drink it up; And so renew their gentle play, Taza ba taza, now ba now; Ever delicious and new alway, Taza ba taza, now ba now."

"Thereunto sigheth the evening gale To freshen the cheeks which love made pale; This is why bloometh the scented flower, To gladden with grace love's secret bower: Love is the zephyr that always blows, Taza ba taza, now ba now; Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows, Taza ba taza, now ba now."

Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear The musical strain so soft and clear; Danced the diamonds over his brow To taza ba taza, now ba now: His lovely ladies rocked in a row To taza ba taza, now ba now;