Recollections of the Arabian Nights

"Recollections of the Arabian Nights" is a poem by Alfred Tennyson, first published in 1830. It is one of his early works, inspired by the tales of One Thousand and One Nights.

Analysis

With this poem should be compared the description of Harun al RashidÃ¢ÂÂs Garden of Gladness in the story of Nur-al-din Ali and the damsel Anis al Talis in the Thirty-Sixth Night.

According to John Churton Collins, the style appears to have been modelled on ColeridgeÃ¢ÂÂs Kubla Khan and Lewti, and the influence of Coleridge is very perceptible throughout the poem.

Text

When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flowÃ¢ÂÂd back with me,   The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn, Adown the Tigris I was borne, By BagdatÃ¢ÂÂs shrines of fretted gold, High-walled gardens green and old; True Mussulman was I and sworn,   For it was in the golden prime     Of good Haroun Alraschid.Anight my shallop, rustling throÃ¢ÂÂ 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 throÃ¢ÂÂ lamplight dim, And broiderÃ¢ÂÂd sofas on each side:   In sooth it was a goodly time,   For it was in the golden prime     Of good Haroun Alraschid.Often, where clear-stemmÃ¢ÂÂd 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 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 throÃ¢ÂÂ the star-strown calm, Until another night in night I enterÃ¢ÂÂd, from the clearer light, ImbowerÃ¢ÂÂd vaults of pillarÃ¢ÂÂd palm, Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb Heavenward, were stayÃ¢ÂÂd beneath the dome   Of hollow boughs.Ã¢ÂÂA 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, ThroÃ¢ÂÂ little crystal arches low Down from the central fountainÃ¢ÂÂs flow FallÃ¢ÂÂn silver-chiming, seemÃ¢ÂÂd 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 throÃ¢ÂÂ many a bowery turn A walk with vary-colourÃ¢ÂÂd shells WanderÃ¢ÂÂd engrainÃ¢ÂÂd. 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 as he sung; Not he: but something which possessÃ¢ÂÂd The darkness of the world, delight, Life, anguish, death, immortal love, Ceasing not, mingled, unrepressÃ¢ÂÂd.   Apart from place, withholding time,   But flattering the golden prime     Of good Haroun Alraschid.Black the garden-bowers and grots SlumberÃ¢ÂÂd: the solemn palms were ranged Above, unwooÃ¢ÂÂd of summer wind: A sudden splendour from behind FlushÃ¢ÂÂd all the leaves with rich gold-green, And, flowing rapidly between Their interspaces, counterchanged The level lake with diamond-plots   Of dark and bright. 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, 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 throÃ¢ÂÂ the garden I was drawnÃ¢ÂÂ A realm of pleasance, many a mound, And many a shadow-chequerÃ¢ÂÂd lawn Full of the cityÃ¢ÂÂs stilly sound, And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round The stately cedar, tamarisks, Thick rosaries 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 alleyÃ¢ÂÂs 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 lookÃ¢ÂÂd to shame The hollow-vaulted dark, and streamÃ¢ÂÂd Upon the mooned domes aloof In inmost Bagdat, till there seemÃ¢ÂÂd 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 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 a rich Throne of the massive ore, from which Down-droopÃ¢ÂÂd, in many a floating fold, Engarlanded and diaperÃ¢ÂÂd With inwrought flowers, a cloth of gold. Thereon, his deep eye laughter-stirrÃ¢ÂÂd With merriment of kingly pride,   Sole star of all that place and time,   I saw himÃ¢ÂÂin his golden prime,     TÃÂÃ¡Â´Â GÃ¡Â´ÂÃ¡Â´ÂÃ¡Â´Â HÃ¡Â´ÂÃÂÃ¡Â´ÂÃ¡Â´ÂÃÂ´ AÃÂÃÂÃ¡Â´ÂsÃ¡Â´ÂÃÂÃÂªÃ¡Â´Â!

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