[240] She fancied that she
was sailing on that Eastern Ocean where the sea-gypsies who live for ever
on the water[241] enjoy a perpetual summer in wandering from isle to isle
when she saw a small gilded bark approaching her. It was like one of those
boats which the Maldivian islanders send adrift, at the mercy of winds and
waves, loaded with perfumes, flowers, and odoriferous wood, as an offering
to the Spirit whom they call King of the Sea. At first, this little bark
appeared to be empty but on coming nearer--
She had proceeded thus far in relating the dream to her Ladies, when
FERAMORZ appeared at the door of the pavilion. In his presence of course
everything else was forgotten and the continuance of the story was
instantly requested by all. Fresh wood of aloes was set to burn in the
cassolets;--the violet sherbets[242] were hastily handed round, and after
a short prelude on his lute in the pathetic measure of Nava,[243] which is
always used to express the lamentations of absent lovers, the Poet thus
continued:--
The day is lowering--stilly black
Sleeps the grim wave, while heaven's rack,
Disperst and wild, 'twixt earth and sky
Hangs like a shattered canopy.
There's not a cloud in that blue plain
But tells of storm to come or past;--
Here flying loosely as the mane
Of a young war-horse in the blast;--
There rolled in masses dark and swelling,
As proud to be the thunder's dwelling!
While some already burst and riven
Seen melting down the verge of heaven;
As tho' the infant storm had rent
The mighty womb that gave him birth,
And having swept the firmament
Was now in fierce career for earth.
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