Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/351

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Song of an Arabian Girl.
Ah! would I were in Araby!
For every splendour here I see
Is far less lovely—far less fair
Than Nature's simplest treasures there.

There, mid the burning desert's waste,
The crystal fount how sweet to taste;
The cooling shade of palmy tree
How welcome in bright Araby.

There the fierce sun shoots from his ray
A blaze of glory o'er the day;
And moon and stars at soothing night
Shed beams of softer, holier light.

But, ah! beyond e'en charms like these,
An Arab maiden's heart to please,
My love is there!—to him I'd flee,
And live and die in Araby.

The Indian Lover's Song.
Hasten, love! the sun hath set,
 And the moon, through twilight, gleaming,
On the mosque's white minaret
 Now in silver light is streaming.

All is hushed in soft repose,
 Silence rests on field and dwelling,
Save where the bulbul[1] to the rose
 A tale of love is sweetly telling.

Stars are glittering in the sky,
 Blest abodes of light and gladness;
Oh! my life! that thou and I
 Might quit for them this world of sadness.

See the fire-fly in the tope[2]
 Brightly through the darkness shining,
As the ray which heavenly hope
 Flashes on the soul's repining.

  1. ↑ Indian nightingale.
  2. ↑ Grove, or thick cluster of trees.
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