 | Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven |  |
I.
'Tis now the hour of mirth, the hour of love,The hour of melancholy: Night, as vain
Of her full beauty, seems to pause above,
That all may look upon her ere it wane.
| Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven | |
The hour of melancholy: Night, as vain
Of her full beauty, seems to pause above,
That all may look upon her ere it wane.