Recollections of the Arabian Nights / Lord Alfred Tennyson

When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
  In the silken sail of infancy,
  The tide of time flow'd back with me,
  The forward-flowing tide of time;
  And many a sheeny summer-morn,
  Adown the Tigris I was borne,
  By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold,
  High-walled gardens green and old;
  True Mussulman was I and sworn,
  For it was in the golden prime [1]
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.


  Anight my shallop, rustling thro' [2]
  The low and bloomed foliage, drove
  The fragrant, glistening deeps, and clove
  The citron-shadows in the blue:
  By garden porches on the brim,
  The costly doors flung open wide,
  Gold glittering thro' [3] lamplight dim,
  And broider'd sofas [4] on each side:
  In sooth it was a goodly time,
  For it was in the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Often, where clear-stemm'd platans guard
  The outlet, did I turn away
  The boat-head down a broad canal
  From the main river sluiced, where all
  The sloping of the moon-lit sward
  Was damask-work, and deep inlay
  Of braided blooms [5] unmown, which crept
  Adown to where the waters slept.
  A goodly place, a goodly time,
  For it was in the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  A motion from the river won
  Ridged the smooth level, bearing on
  My shallop thro' the star-strown calm,
  Until another night in night
  I enter'd, from the clearer light,
  Imbower'd vaults of pillar'd palm,
  Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb
  Heavenward, were stay'd beneath the dome
  Of hollow boughs.--A goodly time,
  For it was in the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Still onward; and the clear canal
  Is rounded to as clear a lake.
  From the green rivage many a fall
  Of diamond rillets musical,
  Thro' little crystal [6] arches low
  Down from the central fountain's flow
  Fall'n silver-chiming, seem'd to shake
  The sparkling flints beneath the prow.
  A goodly place, a goodly time,
  For it was in the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Above thro' [7] many a bowery turn
  A walk with vary-colour'd shells
  Wander'd engrain'd. On either side
  All round about the fragrant marge
  From fluted vase, and brazen urn
  In order, eastern flowers large,
  Some dropping low their crimson bells
  Half-closed, and others studded wide
  With disks and tiars, fed the time
  With odour in the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Far off, and where the lemon-grove
  In closest coverture upsprung,
  The living airs of middle night
  Died round the bulbul [8] as he sung;
  Not he: but something which possess'd
  The darkness of the world, delight,
  Life, anguish, death, immortal love,
  Ceasing not, mingled, unrepress'd.
  Apart from place, withholding [9] time,
  But flattering the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Black the [10] garden-bowers and grots
  Slumber'd: the solemn palms were ranged
  Above, unwoo'd of summer wind:
  A sudden splendour from behind
  Flush'd all the leaves with rich gold-green,
  And, flowing rapidly between
  Their interspaces, counterchanged
  The level lake with diamond-plots
  Of dark and bright. [11] A lovely time,
  For it was in the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Dark-blue the deep sphere overhead,
  Distinct with vivid stars inlaid, [12]
  Grew darker from that under-flame:
  So, leaping lightly from the boat,
  With silver anchor left afloat,
  In marvel whence that glory came
  Upon me, as in sleep I sank
  In cool soft turf upon the bank,
  Entranced with that place and time,
  So worthy of the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.


  Thence thro' the garden I was drawn--[13]
  A realm of pleasance, many a mound,
  And many a shadow-chequer'd lawn
  Full of the city's stilly sound, [14]
  And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round
  The stately cedar, tamarisks,
  Thick rosaries [15] of scented thorn,
  Tall orient shrubs, and obelisks
  Graven with emblems of the time,
  In honour of the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  With dazed vision unawares
  From the long alley's latticed shade
  Emerged, I came upon the great
  Pavilion of the Caliphat.
  Right to the carven cedarn doors,
  Flung inward over spangled floors,
  Broad-based flights of marble stairs
  Ran up with golden balustrade,
  After the fashion of the time,
  And humour of the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  The fourscore windows all alight
  As with the quintessence of flame,
  A million tapers flaring bright
  From twisted silvers look'd [16] to shame
  The hollow-vaulted dark, and stream'd
  Upon the mooned domes aloof
  In inmost Bagdat, till there seem'd
  Hundreds of crescents on the roof
  Of night new-risen, that marvellous time,
  To celebrate the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Then stole I up, and trancedly
  Gazed on the Persian girl alone,
  Serene with argent-lidded eyes
  Amorous, and lashes like to rays
  Of darkness, and a brow of pearl
  Tressed with redolent ebony,
  In many a dark delicious curl,
  Flowing beneath [17] her rose-hued zone;
  The sweetest lady of the time,
  Well worthy of the golden prime
  Of good Haroun Alraschid.

  Six columns, three on either side,
  Pure silver, underpropt [18] a rich
  Throne of the [19] massive ore, from which
  Down-droop'd, in many a floating fold,
  Engarlanded and diaper'd
  With inwrought flowers, a cloth of gold.
  Thereon, his deep eye laughter-stirr'd
  With merriment of kingly pride,
  Sole star of all that place and time,
  I saw him--in his golden prime,
  THE GOOD HAROUN ALRASCHID!



[Footnote 1: "Golden prime" from Shakespeare.

"That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince."

--Rich. III., i., sc. ii., 248.]

[Footnote 2: 1830. Through.] [Footnote 3: 1830. Through.]

[Footnote 4: 1830 and 1842. Sophas.] [Footnote 5: 1830. Breaded blosms.]

[Footnote 6: 1830. Through crystal.] [Footnote 7: 1830. Through.]

[Footnote 8: "Bulbul" is the Persian for nightingale. Cf. Princes, iv., 104:--

"O Bulbul, any rose of Gulistan Shall brush her veil".]

[Footnote 9: 1830. Witholding. So 1842, 1843, 1845.]

[Footnote 10: 1830. Blackgreen.] [Footnote 11: 1830. Of saffron light.]

[Footnote 12: 1830. Unrayed.] [Footnote 13: 1830. Through ... borne.]

[Footnote 14: Shakespeare has the same expression:

"The hum of either army stilly sounds".

--Henry V., act iv., prol.]

[Footnote 15: 1842. Roseries.] [Footnote 16: 1830. Wreathed.]

[Footnote 17: 1830. Below.]

[Footnote 18: 1830. Underpropped. 1842. Underpropp'd.]

[Footnote 19: 1830. O' the.]

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