The hope, in dreams, of a happier hour That alights on misery's brow, Springs out of the silvery almond-flower, Then hasten we, maid, To twine our braid, To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade." The visions, that oft to worldly eyes The glitter of mines unfold, 5 Inhabit the mountain-herb, that dyes The tooth of the fawn like gold. The phantom shapes-oh touch not them That appal the murderer's sight, That shrieks, when torn at night! Then hasten we, maid, To twine our braid, To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 4" The almond-tree, with white flowers, blossoms on the bare branches."- Hasselquist. 5 An herb on Mount Libanus, which is said to communicate a yellow golden hue to the teeth of the goats and other animals that graze upon it. The dream of the injur'd, patient mind, Is found in the bruis'd and wounded rind Then hasten we, maid, To twine our braid, To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. No sooner was the flowery crown Plac'd on her head, than sleep came down, 6 Of AZAB blew, was full of scents, Steals on her ear and floats and swells, Like the first air of morning creeping Into those wreathy, Red-Sea shells, Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping;' 6 The myrrh country. 7 "This idea (of deities living in shells) was not unknown to the Greeks, who represent the young Nerites, one of the Cupids, as living in shells on the shores of the Red Sea."-Wilford. And now a Spirit form'd, 'twould seem, Of music and of light, so fair, So brilliantly his features beam, And such a sound is in the air Of sweetness, when he waves his wings, From CHINDARA's warbling fount I come, And voices are singing the whole day long, Is turn'd, as it leaves the lips, to song! From my fairy home, And if there's a magic in Music's strain, Of that moonlight wreath, Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 8« A fabulous fountain, where instruments are said to be con For mine is the lay that lightly floats, And mine are the murmuring, dying notes, Mine is the charm, whose mystic sway Let but the tuneful talisman sound, And they come, like Genii, hovering round. From soul to soul, the wishes of love, As a bird, that wafts through genial airs 'Tis I that mingle in one sweet measure The past, the present, and future of pleasure; 9 "The Pompadour pigeon is the species, which, by carrying the fruit of the cinnamon to different places, is a great disseminator of this valuable tree.”. -v. Brown's Illustr. Tab. 19. When Memory links the tone that is gone With the blissful tone that's still in the ear; And Hope from a heavenly note flies on To a note more heavenly still that is near ! The warrior's heart, when touch'd by me, As his own white plume, that high amid death yet moves with a breath. And, oh, how the eyes of Beauty glisten, When Music has reach'd her inward soul, Like the silent stars, that wink and listen While Heav'n's eternal melodies roll! From my fairy home, And if there's a magic in Music's strain, Of that moonlight wreath, Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 'Tis dawn at least that earlier dawn, Whose glimpses are again withdrawn,' They have two mornings, the Soobhi Kazim, and the Soobhi Sadig, the false and the real day-break."— Waring. |