Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/31

Rh

A fairer scene to spell-bound eyes The smiling earth could scarce unfold— There's not a cloud o'er those blue skies; And from its founts of living gold The sun pours down a flood of light Upon the river's sparkling wave, Where the swift current speeds its flight, Or lingers wooingly to lave Some bright pagoda's jutting walls, Or ripples on in gentle falls, Where all of shining granite wrought Spreads the broad terrace of the ghaut. And there majestic banians fling Their green luxuriance beside The lofty minarets that spring With upward flight in towering pride; As though to their bold spires 'twere given To pierce the azure vaults of heaven.