The mask is off- the charm is wrought- And SELIM to his heart has caught, In blushes,more than ever bright, His NOUR MAHAL, his Harem's Light! And well do vanished frowns enhance The charm of every brightened glance; And dearer seems each dawning smile For having lost its light awhile: And happier now for all her sighs As on his arm her head reposes She whispers him, with laughing eyes, "Remember, love, the Feast of Roses!" -Sir Thomas Moore (Lalla Rookh)
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