He clapped his hands, and from one of the arcades a boy, hitherto invisible, started into sight; at a slight and scarce perceptible sign from the king the boy again vanished, and in a few moments afterwards, glancing through the fairy pillars, and by the glittering waterfalls, came the small and twinkling feet of the maids of Araby. As, with their transparent tunics and white arms, they gleamed, without an echo, through that cool and voluptuous chamber, they might well have seemed the Peris of the eastern magic, summoned to beguile the sated leisure of a youthful Solomon. With them came a maiden of more exquisite beauty, though smaller stature, than the rest, bearing the light Moorish lute; and a faint and languid smile broke over the beautiful face of Boabdil, as his eyes rested upon her graceful form and the dark yet glowing lustre of her oriental countenance. She alone approached the king, timidly kissed his hand, and then, joining her comrades, commenced the following song, to the air and very words of which the feet of the dancing-girls kept time, while with the chorus rang the silver bells of the musical instrument which each of the dancers carried. AMINE'S SONG. I. Softly, oh, softly glide, Gentle Music, thou silver tide, Bearing, the lulled air along, This leaf from the Rose of Song! To its port in his soul let it float, The frail, but the fragrant boat, Bear it, soft Air, along! II. With the burthen of sound we are laden, Like the bells on the trees of Aden,* When they thrill with a tinkling tone At the Wind from the Holy Throne, Hark, as we move around, We shake off the buds of sound; Thy presence, Beloved, is Aden. III. Sweet chime that I hear and wake I would, for my lov'd one's sake, That I were a sound like thee, To the depths of his heart to flee. If my breath had his senses blest; If my voice in his heart could rest; What pleasure to die like thee! *[The Mohammedans believe that musical bells hang on the trees of Paradise, and are put in motion by a wind from the throne of God.] The music ceased; the dancers remained motionless in their graceful postures, as if arrested into statues of alabaster; and the young songstress cast herself on a cushion at the feet of the monarch, and looked up fondly, but silently, into his yet melancholy eyes,--when a man, whose entrance had not been noticed, was seen to stand within the chamber.