ABSTRACT
My time here drawing to a close, I once again wandered to the Taj, passed through the sombre, thickly shaded gardens to halt for a few moments at a small roo ess enclosure, overshadowed by an evergreen creeper, near the western wall, where rested for the second time the exhumed remains of the Lady of the Taj, already brought from Burhanpur, the city where she died, prior to nal interment in the glittering tomb dose by. en passing through a postern gate, I descended some steps and entered the “greenhouse” which supplies the gardens with palms and other plants. Making my way beneath the shadow of the towering sandstone walls, I found myself on the bank of the Jumna, stepped into a quaint old ferry-boat and crossed to the opposite shore. From this point the view of the Taj is exquisite. At your feet sparkles the slowly dri ing river; above oat those pearl-white minarets and domes, delicate as woven threads, and cobwebbed in marble tracery like silk; while around you echo the whispers of centuries ago as you gaze and gaze on this scintillating shrine which, so fancy dreams, a pu of air might tumble to the ground.
