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o word from Selim's bosom broke;One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke:Still gazed he through the lattice grate,Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.To him Zuleika's eye was turned,But little from his aspect learned:Equal her grief, yet not the same;Her heart confessed a gentler flame:[fp] 260But yet that heart, alarmed or weak,She knew not why, forbade to speak.Yet speak she must--but when essay?"How strange he thus should turn away!Not thus we e'er before have met;Not thus shall be our parting yet."Thrice paced she slowly through the room,And watched his eye--it still was fixed:She snatched the urn wherein was mixedThe Persian Atar-gul's perfume,[144] 270And sprinkled all its odours o'erThe pictured roof[145] and marble floor:The drops, that through his glittering vest[fq]The playful girl's appeal addressed,Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,As if that breast were marble too."What, sullen yet? it must not be--Oh! gentle Selim, this from thee!"She saw in curious order setThe fairest flowers of Eastern land-- 280"He loved them once; may touch them yet,If offered by Zuleika's hand."The childish thought was hardly breathedBefore the rose was plucked and wreathed;The next fond moment saw her seatHer fairy form at Selim's feet:"This rose to calm my brother's caresA message from the Bulbul[146] bears;It says to-night he will prolongFor Selim's ear his sweetest song; 290And though his note is somewhat sad,He'll try for once a strain more glad,With some faint hope his altered layMay sing these gloomy thoughts away.
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