THE SONG BY THE BARADA.
157
By the tethered horses, from man to man
Speech and laughter alternate ran,
Where the muleteers were lying;
But story and merriment fainter grew,
Till the only sound the tent-court knew
Was the dragoman's footfall echoing through,
Or the wind in the walnut sighing.
Speech and laughter alternate ran,
Where the muleteers were lying;
But story and merriment fainter grew,
Till the only sound the tent-court knew
Was the dragoman's footfall echoing through,
Or the wind in the walnut sighing.
Listen! what steals on the air? Has the breeze
Wafted down from the shining seas
A song of the seraphs seven?—
Soft and low as the soothing fall
Of the fountains of Eden; sweet as the call
Of angels over the jasper wall
That welcomes a soul to heaven.
Wafted down from the shining seas
A song of the seraphs seven?—
Soft and low as the soothing fall
Of the fountains of Eden; sweet as the call
Of angels over the jasper wall
That welcomes a soul to heaven.
It swells! it mounts! it fills the vale!
The hawthorns tremble; the roses pale
At its passionate, glorious mazes!—
'T is a Peri hymning of Paradise!
'T is the plaint of a spirit that yearns and sighs,
Though lapped in the nameless bliss of the skies,
For a lost love's embraces!
The hawthorns tremble; the roses pale
At its passionate, glorious mazes!—
'T is a Peri hymning of Paradise!
'T is the plaint of a spirit that yearns and sighs,
Though lapped in the nameless bliss of the skies,
For a lost love's embraces!
A moment's hush with the falling strain;—
And the wild wind, rising, roared amain
O'er the stream and the covert shady!
Breathless I stood in the curtained door,
But the ravishing melody came no more;
And the dragoman, crossing the tent before,
Cried, "The Nightingale, my lady."
And the wild wind, rising, roared amain
O'er the stream and the covert shady!
Breathless I stood in the curtained door,
But the ravishing melody came no more;
And the dragoman, crossing the tent before,
Cried, "The Nightingale, my lady."