Spring is come back to us—the laughing Spring! Sunlight is on the waters— And many a bright, and many a beaming thing, O’er this fair scene its gladdening spell will fling, For the East’s dark-eyed daughters. But where is She, the loveliest of the throng, The painter’s model, and the theme of song; For whom the summer roses joyfully Gave forth alike the beauty of their bloom, Their dewy freshness, and their soft perfume:— The loved of the World’s Monarch—Where is She? Alas! for her the Spring returns in vain; Her home is with the sleepers:— She will not join in the glad song again With which she once subdued the spirit-pain Of the earth’s pale-browed weepers. For her the dance is ended—and for her The flowers no more will their bright petals stir; Nor the sad bulbul wake his melody: The sunshine falls on every hillock’s crest, The pulse of joy beats high in every breast; But She, the loved and lost one, where is She? She lies where lie the last year’s faded flow’rs; She sleeps where sleep the proudest; And there are eyes that will weep burning show’rs, And there are sighs will wear away the hours When the heart’s grief is loudest. Yet mourn her not, she had her day of pride, The East’s dread sovereign chose her for his bride; The sunlight rested on her favour’d brow: Like a fair blossom blighted in its bloom, She filled an early, but a cherished tomb, And where the mighty linger, rests She now! Despite the sentiment of the thing, however, the beautiful Odalique has been long forgotten; and the bevy of beauties who wander near her grave have no time to sigh over her fate. It was, nevertheless, consolatory to my romance to remark that the Sultan shot his arrows in another direction! On leaving the neighbourhood of the Toxopholites, I returned accompanied by a Greek lady to the araba, and drove higher up the valley; where we came in contact with the carriages of Azmè Sultane and her suite. On seeing us, she stopped, and, after inquiring if I were the Frank lady whom she had invited to her palace, she courteously and condescendingly expressed her regret that her indisposition had rendered her unable to receive me, but desired that I would hold myself engaged to spend another day in the Seraï ere long. She then, as a mark of especial favour, sent one of her negroes to the araba, with the infant to whom I have already made allusion, and whom I discovered to be the namesake of my lovely acquaintance, Heyminè Hanoum: the child was richly and fantastically dressed; and, when I had praised its beauty, admired its costume, and restored it to the attendant, I received a very gracious salutation from Her Highness, who moved on, followed by her suite.