The Zenana and minor poems of L. E. L. [i.e. Landon] | ||
Days pass, yet still Zilara's song
Beguiled the regal beauty's hours
As the wind bears some bird along
Over the haunted orange bowers.
'Twas as till then she had not known
How much her heart had for its own:
And Murad's image seemed more dear,
These higher chords of feeling strung;
“And love shone brighter for the shade
“That others' sorrows round it flung.
It was one sultry noon, yet sweet
The air which through the matted grass
Came cool—its breezes had to meet
A hundred plumes, ere it could pass;
The peacock's shining feathers wave
From many a young and graceful slave;
Who silent kneel amid the gloom
Of that dim and perfumed room.
Beguiled the regal beauty's hours
As the wind bears some bird along
Over the haunted orange bowers.
'Twas as till then she had not known
How much her heart had for its own:
And Murad's image seemed more dear,
These higher chords of feeling strung;
“And love shone brighter for the shade
“That others' sorrows round it flung.
52
The air which through the matted grass
Came cool—its breezes had to meet
A hundred plumes, ere it could pass;
The peacock's shining feathers wave
From many a young and graceful slave;
Who silent kneel amid the gloom
Of that dim and perfumed room.
The Zenana and minor poems of L. E. L. [i.e. Landon] | ||