Circassian beauty

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During the Ottoman period, Circassian women were celebrated for their beauty. The trope was also adopted by Europeans in the context of Orientalism.

Quotes[edit]

  • HER dovelike Eyes ten Thousand Charms dispense,
    Breathing at once both Love and Innocence.
    Behold! adown her Neck the wavy Locks
    Frisk, like exulting Kids o’er Gilead’s Rocks.
    Her Ivory Teeth in beauteous Order stand,
    Like Sheep new-wash’d and whiten’d on the Strand;
    When, dropping from the Flood their snowy Skins,
    Each with her Lambs appears, and each with Twins.
    Her Lips like Threads of Scarlet brightly glow;
    In sweetest Sounds her moving Accents flow.
    Around her Cheeks soft circling Tresses shine,
    Just as the tender Ringlets of the Vine
    Round the plump Fruit their wanton Curls entwine.
    Her marble Neck the sparkling Gems adorn,
    As blazing Phosphor gilds the rosy Morn,
    Shap’d like the lofty Tow’r in Sion’s Fields,
    Studded and hung with Warriors mighty Shields.
    Her Breast, where Love and all his Graces dwell,
    Pregnant with Bloom and ripening Beauties swell;
    Like young Twin-Roes that graze the verdant Meads,
    With Buds just sprouting from their velvet Heads.
    Her slender Feet, most lovely to behold,
    Are cas’d in Purple Buskins wrought with Gold;
    Her well-turn’d Legs and full-proportion’d Thighs,
    Charm by Degrees, and with new Beauty rise;
    The Joints with Dimples smiling; and above,
    The Spring of Bliss, the bubbling Fount of Love.
    Plump is her Belly, but how smoothly plain!
    Like Fields of Wheat impregnated with Rain;
    White as the Silver Lilly’s snowy Bloom,
    Swelling with Dew, and fragrant with Perfume.
    Her even Breasts like the Roe’s Younglings play,
    And panting bound luxuriant as They:
    Like Velvet Buds the crimson Nipples rise,
    Firm to the Touch and grateful to the Eyes.
    Fair as an Ivory Column’s tow’ring Height,
    Her lofty Neck advances to the Sight.
    Her Eyes reflect the Fountain’s limpid Hue,
    Clear as the Sky and of a heavenly Blue,
    Like Beams of milder Light, divinely Fair,
    Bound back and braided shines her silken Hair.
    The King, in passing, her bright Form admires,
    And feels within his Breast soft kindling Fires;
    Held in the Galleries a Slave to Love,
    Intent He gazes, and forgets to move.
  • FORTY Viziers saw I go
    Up to the Seraglio,
    Burning, each and every man,
    For the fair Circassian.
    Ere the morn had disappear’d,
    Every Vizier wore a beard;
    Ere the afternoon was born,
    Every Vizier came back shorn.
    ‘Let the man that woos to win
    Woo with an unhairy chin:’
    Thus she said, and as she bid
    Each devoted Vizier did.
    From the beards a cord she made,
    Loop’d it to the balustrade,
    Glided down and went away
    To her own Circassia.
    When the Sultan heard, wax’d he
    Somewhat wroth, and presently
    In the noose themselves did lend
    Every Vizier did suspend.
    Sages all, this rhyme who read,
    Of your beards take prudent heed,
    And beware the wily plans
    Of the fair Circassians.
  • WHERE through the narrow straight Bazaar
      A little maid Circassian
    Is led, a present from the Czar
      Unto some old and bearded khan,—