Beneath an awning's silken shade, Where the light breeze its music made, With woven fringe and silken cord, Sat the young bride with her brave lord. Her hand in his was ling'ring still, And every throb of his full heart Met her young pulses with a thrill, And sent the blood up with a start, To that round cheek but late so pale And blanched beneath the bridal veil. A tear still trembled in her eye, Like dews that in the violet lie; But breaking through its lovely sheen, The brightness of her soul was seen, Like light within the amethyst, Which told how truly she was blest; Though as she met his ardent gaze, Like the veined petal of a flower Her eyelids drooped, as from the blaze Of some loved, high, but dreaded power. As bound by some subduing spell, In beauty at his side she bowed. The bridal robe around her fell, Like fragments of a summer cloud; The loosened veil had backward swept, And deeply in her glossy hair, Like light, the orange blossoms slept, As if they sought new beauty there; And pearls lay softly on her neck, Like hailstones melting over snow, Save when the blood, that dyed her cheek. Diffused abroad its rosy glow, And playing on her bosom-swell, With every heart-pulse rose or fell. Up went the sun; his burning rays Broke o'er the stream like sparkling fire, Till the broad Ganges seemed a-blaze, With gorgeous light, save where the spire Of some lone slender minaret, Threw its clear shadow on the stream, Or grove-like banian firmly set, Broke with its boughs the fiery gleam; Or where a white pagoda shone Like snow-drift through the shadowy trees; Or ancient mosque stood out alone, Where the wild creeper sought the breeze; Or where some dark and gloomy rock Shot o'er the deep its ragged cliffs, Inhabited by many a flock Of vultures, and its yawning rifts Alive with lizards, glowing, bright, As if a prism's changing light Within the gloomy depths were flung, Where like rich jewels newly strung, The sleeping serpent stretched its length, And nursed its venom into strength.