Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1834.pdf/24

Rh

Rh

But still the earth will have its share, The stem is green—the foliage fair— Those coronals of gems but glow Over the withered heart below— That one dark spot, like passion’s fire, Consuming with its own desire. And pale, as one who dares not turn Upon her inmost thoughts, and learn, If it be love their depths conceal; Love she alone is doomed to feel— The jasmine droopeth mournfully Over the bright anemone, The summer’s proud and sun-burnt child: In vain the queen is not beguiled, They waste their bloom. Nadira's eye Neglects them—let them pine and die. Ah! birds and flowers may not suffice The heart that throbs with stronger ties. Again, again Murad is gone, Again his young bride weeps alone: Seeks her old nurse, to win her ear With magic stories once so dear, And calls the Almas to her aid. With graceful dance, and gentle singing, And bells like those some desert home Hears from the camel’s neck far ringing. Alas! she will not raise her brow; Yet stay—some spell hath caught her now: That melody has touched her heart. Oh, triumph of Zilara’s art; She listens to the mournful strain, And bids her sing that song again.