Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/141

Rh

From yonder bubbling spring, for little elves Float in the liquid diamond, singing strains Of love, and hope, and joy. Oh, the broad day Hath none of these delights; sweet Fancy shrinks From the betraying sun, and chooses night To smile upon her witchery. 'Tis fair, 'Tis wondrous beautiful; but did the night Come clothed in all its terrors, it must bring Joy to thine Isabel, my Julian; we By stern necessity divorced by day, Breathe and exist but in the twilight hour.

My wild idolatry could wish that night Should reign for ever, and these fairy bowers Form all our universe. Amid the crush Of dark tumultuous passions, which the soul Must combat in its worldly intercourse, I sigh and languish for the tranquil hour,