'One craved my love and I gave all he craved of me, * And tears on cheek betray how 'twas I came to yield: Tear-drops, meseemeth, are familiar with our case, * Revealing what I hide, hiding what I revealed: How can I hope in secret to conceal my love, * Which stress of passion ever showeth unconcealed: Death, since I lost my lover, is grown sweet to me; * Would I knew what their joys when I shall quit the field!
Now when Shams al-Nahar heard these verses sung by the slave-girl, she could not keep her seat; but fell down in a fainting-fit whereupon the Caliph cast the cup from his hand and drew her to him crying out; and the damsels also cried out, and the Prince of True Believers turned her over and shook her, and lo and behold! she was dead. The Caliph grieved over her death with sore gr
