Page:Lalla Rookh - Moore - 1817.djvu/65

 Each brilliant bird that wings the air is seen;-- Gay, sparkling loories such as gleam between The crimson blossoms of the coral-tree In the warm isles of India's sunny sea: Mecca's blue sacred pigeon, and the thrush Of Hindostan whose holy warblings gush At evening from the tall pagoda's top;-- Those golden birds that in the spice time drop About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food Whose scent hath lured them o'er the summer flood;