Classic Poem

Here every honey-hearted sweet
In fruits of gold and red
The heavy-laden tropic trees
With rich profusion shed.
Here buff and scarlet blossoms hang
From vines of glossy green,
And humming birds, with ruby throats,
Like floating flames are seen.

Here pink and purple passion-flowers
Hang scarfs of airy silk,
And claret-clouded orchids bloom
By orchids white as milk.
Here red and yellow mangoes cling,
Here citrons bend the twigs,
Here green and golden melons trail,
Here swing delicious figs.

What gorgeous flowers, what luscious fruits
Unknown to me before!
I gaze in wonder on them now,
But soon shall see no more.
Their blaze of glory stills the speech,
Their brilliance blinds the eyes;
What Tyrian tints, what heavenly hues,
Like flaming sunset skies!

No Northern violet opens here
Its baby eyes of blue;
No daisy lifts from tufted grass
To drink the morning dew.
No oak tree ever quivers here
In wanton winds of heaven; —
Ah, I am but a stranger, too,
Here for a moment driven.

Yet, Beauty ever hand in hand
With Sadness still is met;
These glories only fill my heart
With longing and regret.
What sorrow haunts this scented air
For bliss once all my own;
Yes, Love and Joy should both be mine,
Yet here am I alone!