As from its dimpled fountain, at its own capricious will, 

 Each step a note of music and each fall and flash a thrill ; 

 The rill goes singing to the meadow levels and is still. 



So fell from Nourmahal her song upon the captive sense ; 



It dashed in spray against the throne, it tinkled through the tents, 



And died at last among the flowery banks of recompense. 



For when great Selim marked her fire, and read her riddle well, 

 And watched her from the flushing to the fading of the spell. 

 He sprang forgetful from his seat and caught her as she fell. 



He raised her in his tender arms ; he bore her to his throne ; 

 " No more, oh, Nourmahal, my wife ; no more I rule alone ; 

 And the future for the dreary past shall royally atone ! " 



He called to him the princes and the nobles of the land. 

 Then took the signet ring from his, and placed it on her hand. 

 And bade them honor as his own fair Nourmahal's command. 



And on the minted silver that his largess scattered wide. 



And on the gold of commerce, till the mighty Selim died, 



jHer name and his in shining boss stood equal, side by side. 



14 



