Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/104

Rh

Of waters spouting from his nostrils; high In air the rainbow columns rise. I seek The flame-encircled Mercury, and bathe In floods of fire. The air is molten gold, The glorious sun shines cloudless, and the earth Glows like a furnace. Our poor tropics seem Bleak in comparison! By Heaven, there are Some glorious creatures hatched so near the sun, Death with his cold damp touch hath never dared Invade the burning region.

To a vale— An Indian vale, fraught with rich musky balm From ever-blowing roses, whose bright leaves Drop in a crimson shower amid the stars The jasmine sheds upon the flower-strewed earth, Couched in a lotus bark, I steer my flight. The sultry sun hath sunk—the dewy air