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14
AMIR KHAN.
Would raise again its drooping head,
To greet the footstep which had fled.

'Tis not the breeze which floats around,
Lifting the light veil from the ground:
No! 'tis a form of heavenly mien
Hath dared to draw the curtain's screen.

Dimly, behind the fluttering veil,
Which trembles in the breathing gale,
A form appears of seraph mould
As 'neath a light cloud's fleecy fold;
The veil is drawn with hasty hand,
Loosed is the rich embroidered band;
'Tis solemn solitude around,
There's not a murmur, not a sound,—
Again a snowy hand is seen,
Again is raised the silken screen,
And lo! with light and noiseless tread,
Amreta glided from its shade!

Her veil was fluttering in the air,
Her brow, as Parian marble fair,
Was glittering bright with many a gem
Set in a brilliant diadem;
Her long dark hair was floating far,
Braided with many a diamond star;
Her eye was raised, and O! that eye
Seemed only formed to gaze on high!
For O, more piercing bright its beam
Than diamonds 'neath Golconda's stream: