Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1833.pdf/17

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art, the stars above Were fated on thy birth to shine; Oh, born of beauty and of love, What early poetry was thine!

The softness of Ionian night Upon Ionian summer lay, One planet gave its vesper light, Enough to guide a lover’s way; And gave the fountain as it played, The semblance of a silvery shower, And as its waters fell, they made A music meet for such an hour; That, and the tones the gentle wind Won from the leaf, as from a lute, In natural melody combined, Now that all ruder sound was mute; And odours floated on the air, As many a nymph had just unbound The wreath that bound their raven hair, And flung the fragrant tresses round.

Pillowed on violet leaves, which prest Filled the sweet chamber with their sighs, Lulled by the lyre’s low notes to rest, A Grecian youth in slumber lies; And at his side a maiden stands, The dark hair braided on her brow, The lute within her slender hands, But hushed is all its music now. She would not wake him from his dreams, Although she has so much to say, Although the morning’s earliest beams Will see her warrior torn away. How fond and earnest is the gaze Upon these sleeping features thrown, She who yet never dared to raise Her timid eyes to meet his own. 11