Safie | ||
The mist was dispersing o'er rock and mount;
The mist was flitting from wave and fount;
The dew was dropping from grass and flower,
The trembling beauty of an hour:
You would think it was morn by the freshen'd air,
That kiss'd the face, so cool, so fair,—
And by many a tint that loves to lie
On the furthest edge of an Eastern sky:—
For as maiden coy, when her lover near
Whispers his suit in her list'ning ear,
Feels at the praise a modest blush
Spread o'er her cheek its glowing flush,
Till a smiling light and pleasure dance
Bright on her rosy countenance;—
So the faint red tints of rising morn
At first the bashful East adorn,
Till increasing in glow, at last the day
Burst forth on many a laughing ray;—
And so the rose, the garden's glory,
Resplendent in Arabian story,
That sweetly trembles to the tale,
When warbled by the Nightingale ,
That seeks to share the lover's bliss,
With ruby lip, and perfumed kiss,
Displays at first such simple streaks,
As line the sky when morning breaks,
Which heightening still, and still increasing,
As from the circling leaves releasing,
Divinely sweet,—supremely gay,—
It blows,—it blushes into day.
The mist was flitting from wave and fount;
The dew was dropping from grass and flower,
The trembling beauty of an hour:
27
That kiss'd the face, so cool, so fair,—
And by many a tint that loves to lie
On the furthest edge of an Eastern sky:—
For as maiden coy, when her lover near
Whispers his suit in her list'ning ear,
Feels at the praise a modest blush
Spread o'er her cheek its glowing flush,
Till a smiling light and pleasure dance
Bright on her rosy countenance;—
So the faint red tints of rising morn
At first the bashful East adorn,
Till increasing in glow, at last the day
Burst forth on many a laughing ray;—
And so the rose, the garden's glory,
Resplendent in Arabian story,
That sweetly trembles to the tale,
When warbled by the Nightingale ,
28
With ruby lip, and perfumed kiss,
Displays at first such simple streaks,
As line the sky when morning breaks,
Which heightening still, and still increasing,
As from the circling leaves releasing,
Divinely sweet,—supremely gay,—
It blows,—it blushes into day.
Safie | ||