With spray of spar on the cup.

Then a slave bursts in with a cry:

"The eunuchs! the Khalif's eunuchs!—

With scimitars bared draw nigh!

Wesif and Afif and he,

Chief of the hideous three,

Mesrour!—the Sultan's seen

'Mid a hundred weapons' sheen!"

Did we part when we heard this? No!

It seems that my soul remembers

How I clasped you and kissed you, so.

When they came they found us—dead

On the flowers our blood dyed red;

Our lips together, and

The dagger in my hand.

[Pg 24]

[Pg 24]

11

 She, musingly:

How it was I cannot tell,

 Prev. P 21/126 next