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I KNOW WHERE THE WING'D.

I know where the wing’d visions dwell

That around the night-bed play ';
I know each herb and flowret's bell,
Where they hide their wings by day.

Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The image of love, that nightly flies

To visit the bashful maid,
Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs

Its soul, like her, in the shade.
The hope, in dreams, of a happier hour

That alights on misery's brow,
Springs out of the silvery-almond flower,
That blooms on a leafless bough.*

Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The visions, that oft to wordly eyes

The glitter of mines unfold ;
Inhabit the mountain herb, that dyes

The tooth of the fawn like gold.

* « The Almond-tree, with white flowers, blossoms on the bare branches.” -Hasselquist.

† 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 phantom shapes oh touch not them--

That appal the murderer's sight, Lurk in the fleshly mandrake's stem, That shrieks when torn at night!

Then hasten we maid,

To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The dream of the injur'a, patient mind,
That smiles at the

wrongs

of

men, Is found in the bruis'd and wounded rind Of the cinnamon, sweetest then!

Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade:

COME HITHER, COME HITHER.

COME hither, come hither—by night and by day,

We linger in pleasures that never are gone ; Like the waves of the summer, as one dies away,

Another as sweet and as shining comes on. And the Love that is o'er, in expiring, gives birth

To a new one as warm, as unequall'd in bliss ; And oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,

It is this, it is this.

Here maidens are sighing, and fragrant their sigb

As the flower of the Amra just opd by a bee ;* And precious their tears as that rain from the sky,

Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea. Oh! think what the kiss and the smile must be worth,

When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss ; And own if there be an Elysium on earth,

It is this, it is this.

Here sparkles the nectar that, hallowed by love, Could draw down those angels of old from their

sphere, Who for wine of this earths left the fountains above,

And forgot hear'n's stars for the eyes we have here. And bless'd with the odour our goblet gives forth,

What Spirit the sweets of his Eden would miss ? For oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,

It is this, it is this.

THERE'S A BLISS.

THERE's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,

When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie,

* “ Delightful are the flowers of the Amra trees on the mountain-tops, while the murmuring bees pursue their voluptuous toil."~Song of Jayadeva.

“ The Nisan or drops of spring rain, which they believe to produce pearls if they fall into shells.”-Richardson.

| For an account of the share which wine had in the fall of the angels, v. Mariti.

With heart never changing and brow never cold,

Love on through all ills, and love on till they die! One hour of a passion so sacred is worth

Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss; And oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth,

It is this, it is this.

FLY TO THE DESERT,

Fly to the desert, fly with me,
Our Arab tents are rude for thee;
But oh! the choice what heart can doubt
Of tents with love or thrones without ?

Our rocks are rough, but smiling there
Th’ acacia waves her yellow hair,
Lonely and sweet, nor lov'd the less
For flowering in a wilderness.

Our sands are bare, but down their slope
The silvery-footed antelope
As gracefully and gaily springs
As o'er the marble courts of kings.

Then come-thy Arab maid will be
The lov'd and lone acacia tree,
The antelope, whose feet shall bless
With their light sound thy loneliness.

Oh! there are looks and tones that dart
An instant sunshine through the heart,
As if the soul that minute caught
Some treasure it through life had sought ;

As if the very lips and eyes
Predestin'd to have all our sighs,
And never be forgot again,
Sparkled and spoke before us then!

So came thy every glance and tone,
When first on me they breathed and shone ;
New as if brought from other spheres,
Yet welcome as if lov'd for years !

Then fly with me e-if thou hast known
No other flame, nor falsely thrown
A gem away that thou hast sworn,
Should ever in thy heart be worn.

Come, if the love thou hast for me
Is pure and fresh as mine for thee,
Fresh as the fountain under ground,
When first ’tis by the lapwing found.*

But if for me thou dost forsake
Some other maid, and rudely break

* The hudhud, or lapwing, is supposed to have the power of discovering water under ground.

G

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