Collected papers of Miss Beauchamp

• August 2, 2019 16:51:22 Thomas A. Lingner

  Letters from a Divan

  1. The Harem.

  
  

  A divan in a harem, peace, seclusion, rest an

  atmosphere of grace! Too far to be found by those whose

  pleasure lies in the noisy crowded town, but easily attained

  by those who seek, needing its beauty, the beauty of hidden

  things. Approach it by a winding street, uphill,

  past overhanging, overlapping houses that try from either

  side to touch each other, 'tis but a mile; at first barely

  a track through devastation and ruin left by a great

  fire; then it becomes a street again, and in the 

  quarter beyond chaos leads steeply past a mosque, to

  the city boundary, lovely remains of old Venetian walls, 

  a gate of mystery, and then bare rolling hills, 

  melancholy and more mysterious. 

  The harem is scarce so far, a double door leads

  from the street below the mosque into a narrow

  paved courtyard with an old well in the corner, and

  another door under the porter's lodge, from which all

  coming visitors can be watched. Open that door

  and enter another world, wherein the sounds of the

  street are lost: a paved garden wherein limes,

  roses, syringa, sweeten the air: vines, figs,

  pomegranates bear abundant fruit. 

• March 14, 2018 12:26:30 Jessica Adkins

  Letters from a Divan

  1. The Harem.

  
  

  A divan in a harem, peace, seclusion, rest all an

  atmosphere of grace! Too far to be found by those whose

  pleasure lies in the noisy crowded town, but easily attained

  by those who seek, needing its beauty, the beauty of hidden

  things. The Approach it by a winding street, uphill,

  past overhanding, overlapping houses that try from either

  side to touch the each other, 'tis but a mile; at first barely

  a track through devastation and ruin left by the a great

  fire; then it becomes a street again, and in the 

  quarter beyond chaos leads steeply past a mosque, to

  the city boundary, lovely remains of old Venetian walls, 

  a gate of mystery, and then bare rolling hills, 

  melancholy and more mysterious. 

  The harem is scarce so far, a double door leads

  from the street below the mosque into a narrow

  paved courtyard with an old well in the corner, and

  another door under the porter's lodge, from which all

  coming visitors can be watched. Open that door

  and enter another world, wherein the sounds of the

  street are lost: a paved garden wherein limes,

  roses, syringa, sweeten the air: vines, figs,

  pomegranates bear abundant fruit. 

  
  

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