Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/224

206 Spikenard blossoms shaking, Perfume all the air. And in bud and flower breakingy Stands my garden fair. While with swelling gladness blest, Heaves my friend's rejoicing breast. Oh, come home, lost friend of mine. Seared from out m j tent and land. Drink from me the spicy wine, Milk and must from oat my hand. Cares which hovered round my brow. Vanish, while the garden now Girds itself with myrtle hedges, Bright-hued edges Bound it lie. Suddenly All my sorrows die. See the breathing myrrh-trees blow, Aromatic airs enfold me. While the splendor and the glow Of the walnut-branches hold me. And a balsam-breath is flowing, Through the leafy shadows green, On the left the cassia 's growing, On the right the aloe 's seen. Lo, the dear cup crystalline, In itself a gem of art, Ruby-red foams up with wine,