4
Unheeded now the scorpion crawls,
And snakes unscathed in silence glide,
Where once the bright Zenana's halls
To woman's feet were sanctified.
No trace remains of those gay hours
When lamps, in golden radiance bright,
Streamed o'er these now deserted towers
The sunshine of their perfumed light.
The maiden's song, the anklet's bells
So sweetly ringing o'er the floor,
And eyes as soft as the gazelle's
Are heard, and seen, and felt no more.
Now all is silent; the wild cry
Of savage beasts alone is heard,
Or wrathful tempest hurrying by,
Or moanings of some desert bird.
