Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially panting, what passionate spirits aflaming with fire Drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth heavens that glimmer around them in fountains of light? O wild and entrancing the strain of keen music that cleaveth the stars like a wail of desire, And beautiful dancers with houri-like faces bewitch the voluptuous watches of night. The scents of red roses and sandalwood flutter and die in the maze of their gem-tangled hair, And smiles are entwining like magical serpents the poppies of lips that are opiate-sweet, Their glittering garments of purple are burning like tremulous dawns in the quivering air, And exquisite, subtle, and slow are the tinkle and tread of their rhythmical slumber-soft feet. Now silent, now singing and swaying and swinging, like blossoms that bend to the breezes or showers, Now wantonly winding, they flash, now they falter, and lingering languish in radiant choir, Their jewel-bright arms and warm, wavering, lily-long fingers enchant thro' the summer-swift hours, Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially panting, their passionate spirits aflaming with fire. When I had finished reading this too-too all but morsel of exquisiteness, the Boy said he'd be punctured if he could exactly catch the hang of the thing (the Philistine!), but he thought he would like some of those (the heathen!), and having seen an announcement that a troupe of Eastern Dancers were then appearing at Earl's Court, he had determined to let his passionate, with fire-aflaming spirit "drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth heavens." * * * * * On the way to Earl's Court, I filled up the Boy with such general information about Nautch Girls, as I had gathered in my studies. I informed him that nothing could exceed the transcendent beauty, both in form and lineament, of these admirable creatures; that their dancing was the most elegant and gently graceful ever seen, for that it comprised no prodigious springs, no vehement pirouettes, no painful tension of the muscles, or extravagant contortions of the limbs; no violent sawing of the arms; no unnatural curving of the limbs, no bringing of the legs at right angles with the trunk; no violent hops or jerks, or dizzy jumps. The Nautch Girl's arms, I assured him, move in unison with her tiny, naked feet, which fall on earth as mute as snow. She occasionally turns quickly round, expanding the loose folds of her thin petticoat, when the heavy silk border with which it is trimmed opens into a circle round her, showing for an instant the beautiful outline of her form, draped with the most becoming and judicious taste.