'Twas summer eve, and I had wander'd
Where lofty trees o'erhang the wave,
That, rippling on its course, meander'd
By my Mary's early grave.
The pale moon o'er the scene presided,
And not a zephyr stirr'd the grove;
The hour, the stream that near me glided,
All brought to mind my buried love.

The last time I had wander'd hither,
Mary was warbling by my side—
Thou fairest flower! doom'd to wither
In youth and beauty's stainless pride:
I wept not o'er thy narrow dwelling,
With not one tear my cheek was wet—

Light—light upon my soul!
Downward it streams from its celestial fountains;
About me glows like sunrise on the mountains;
It bringeth gladsome cheer,
Farewell my night of fear!

Life—life I feel within!
Fresh from its rich, immortal source descending,
It lends me power divine, forever ending
The weakness felt before;
I now can faint no more.

Love—love my bosom fills!
From Him whose name is Love, it comes, inspiring
Deep, warm, responsive love, my spirit firing
With holy rapturous glow,
Such as pure seraphs know.

From heaven there fell upon the foaming wave
A timid drop; the flood with anger roar'd,—
But God, its modest boldness to reward,
Strength to the drop and firm endurance gave.
Its form the mussel captive took.
And to its lasting glory and renown,
The pearl now glistens in our monarch's crown,
With gentle gleam and loving look.

Writes he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Talik,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!—for he loves!

Love for love, and moments sweet,
Lips returning kiss for kiss,
Word for word, and eyes that meet;
Breath for breath, and bliss for bliss.
Thus at eve, and thus the morrow!
Yet thou feelest, at my lay,
Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Jussuf's graces borrow,
All thy beauty I'd repay!

List , and in memory bear
These six fond loving pair.
Love, when aroused, kept true
Rustan and Rodawu!
Strangers approach from far
Jussuf and Suleika;
Love, void of hope, is in
Ferhad and Schirin.
Born for each other are
Medschnun and Leila;
Loving, though old and grey,
Dschemil saw Boteinah.
Love's sweet caprice anon,
Brown maid and Solomon!
If thou dost mark them well,
Stronger thy love will swell.

Love in a showre of Blossomes came
Down, and halfe drown'd me with the same:
The Blooms that fell were white and red;
But with such sweets commingled,
As whether (this) I cannot tell
My sight was pleas'd more, or my smell:
But true it was, as I rowl'd there,
Without a thought of hurt, or feare;
Love turn'd himselfe into a Bee,
And with his Javelin wounded me:
From which mishap this use I make,
Where most sweets are, there lyes a Snake.
Kisses and Favours are sweet things;
But Those have thorns, and These have stings.

I HAVE been there before thee, O my love!
—Each winding way I know and all the flowers,
The shadowy cypress trees, the twilight grove,
—Where rest, in fragrant sleep, the enchanted hours.

I have been there before thee. At the end
—There stands a gate through which thou too must pass.
When thou shalt reach it, God in mercy send
—Thou say no bitterer word, love, than “Alas!”

Instead of Orient Pearls, of Jet,
I sent my Love a Karkanet:
About her spotlesse neck she knit
The lace, to honour me, or it:
Then think how wrapt was I to see
My Jet t'enthrall such Ivorie.

When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?

The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom--is to die.