So graceful in her movements, and so sweet, Her very look plucked from the breast of age The root of sorrow--her wine-sipping lips, And mouth like sugar, cheeks all dimpled o'er With smiles, and glowing as the summer rose-- Won every heart. This damsel, possessed of these beauties and charms, was accustomed to dress herself in the warlike habiliments of a man, and to combat with heroes. She was then only fifteen years of age, but so accomplished in valor, judgment, and discretion, that Minúchihr, who had in that year commenced hostile operations against her father, was compelled to relinquish his pretensions, and submit to the gallantry which she displayed on that occasion. Her father's realm was saved by her magnanimity. Many kings were her suitors, but Gúreng would not give his consent to her marriage with any of them. He only agreed that she should marry the sovereign whom she might spontaneously love. It must be love, and love alone,[1] That binds thee to another's throne; In this my father has no voice, Thine the election, thine the choice. The daughter of Gúreng had a Kábul woman for her nurse, who was deeply skilled in all sorts of magic and sorcery. The old enchantress well could say, What would befall on distant day; And by her art omnipotent, Could from the watery element Draw fire, and with her magic breath, Seal up a dragon's eyes in death. Could from the flint-stone conjure dew; The moon and seven stars she knew; And of all things invisible To human sight, this crone could tell.