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Like some fair lotus bending deep
Beneath the wave its roseate bells;
Like those pure lily buds that keep
Their virgin court mid forest-cells;
Or jewel in a lovely mine[1];
Or image in a hallowed shrine;
Above the Jumna's sparkling waters,
The flower of Delhi's radiant daughters,
Blesses the undivided love
Of one who never wished to rove
From the fair creature by his side,
His beautiful imperial bride.
And she—oh! in this earthly sphere,
Or heaven's wide realm, no dream of bliss
Is half so precious and so dear,
So cherished as her infant's kiss,
And that loved husband's fondness shewn
For her bright form, and her's alone!
Her woman's heart on earth has found
Its own domestic parardise;
