Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/36

 Far off, and where the lemon-grove In closest coverture upsprung, The living airs of middle night Died round the bulbul as he sung; Not he: but something which possess'd The darkness of the world, delight. Life, anguish, death, immortal love. Ceasing not, mingled, unrepress'd, Apart from place, witholding time, But flattering the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.

Black the garden-bowers and grots Slumber'd: the solemn palms were ranged Above, unwoo'd of summer wind: A sudden splendour from behind Flush'd all the leaves with rich gold-green. And, flowing rapidly between