Detdiar sidj as efterluket wurden.
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Doth Mustapha, then, fail to keep
My father's oft enjoined behest,
That he should lack nor food nor rest ?
Thou, too, when first the tale I told
Of Melleff and his hair of gold,
And thou didst go to prove my word,
With pity deep thy heart seemed stirred,
Nor from thy questions couldst thou leave ;
Wherefore now suffer him to grieve ?
Not southern night, descending fast,
Could shade so dark and sudden cast
As o'er old Gerda's features passed −
Then with a sigh, she answered grave,
"Tears are the pastime of the slave !"
Young Fatmeh on her face still gazed,
With questioning eye and thought amazed.
"Do all slaves weep ?" at length she cried ;
"Not all" — the aged nurse replied,
