At the door of a house where there was a bride, flowers were hung, and a vessel of water was placed where there was a death. Fragments of impassioned love songs have come down to us, and though we know little of their marriage customs, compared to their funerals, the freedom of intercourse between the sexes and the greater opportunity for personal acquaintance than was usually afforded in Eastern countries, leads to the supposition that real love matches were not infrequent. Like the Japanese, they compared the beloved object to blossoms and flowers; nor were the ladies apparently behind the gentlemen in the free expression of ardent feeling.
“Thou beautiful one my wish is to be with thee as thy wife,” says or sings the enthusiastic maiden, and Miss Edwards and others give instances where each strophe begins with an invocation to a flower, thus curiously resembling the stornelli of the Tuscan peasantry, of which every verse begins and ends with a similar invocation to some familiar blossom or tree.
“O flower of henna,
My heart stands still in thy presence.
I have made mine eyes brilliant for thee with kohl,
When I behold thee, I fly to thee, oh, my beloved!
Oh, lord of my heart, sweet is this hour.
An hour passed with thee is worth an hour of eternity!”
…
“Oh, flower of marjoram!