Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/56

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Before, beside us, and above,
The fire-fly lights his lamp of love.
Retreating, chasing, sinking, soaring,
The darkness of the copse exploring,
While to this cooler air confest,
The broad Dhatura bares her breast
Of fragrant scent and virgin white,
A pearl around the locks of night.
Still as we pass, in softened hum
Along the breezy alleys come
The village song, the horn, the drum.

Still as we pass, from bush and brier,
The shrill Cigala strikes his lyre;
And, what is she whose liquid strain
Thrills through yon copse of sugar-cane?
I know that soul-entrancing swell,
It is—it must be—Philomel.
Enough, enough, the rustling trees
Announce a shower upon the breeze,
The flashes of the summer sky
Assume a deeper, ruddier dye;
Yon lamp that trembles on the stream.
From forth our cabin sheds its beam;
And we must early sleep, to find
Betimes the morning's healthy wind.
But oh! with thankful hearts confess
E'en here there may be happiness;
And He, the bounteous Sire, has given
His peace on earth,—His hope of heaven.