CANTO II.
I.
'Neath the fragile mimosa dark Mytah was laid,
Where the care of her lover a soft couch had made,
The leaves, in a delicate tracery woven,
Formed a bower by the sunlight that never was cloven.
Though, confessing his ardour, they glowed in his beam
Till the bright parroquet on the bough one might deem
An emerald blossom its branches that graced,
Were it not for the star-flower that nature had placed.
Fit bloom 'mid such verdure, to deck that bower
As the stars gild their blue dome in midnight hour.
