Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/56

34 Before, beside us, and above, The fire-fly lights his lamp of love. Retreating, chasing, sinking, soaring, The darkness of the copse exploring, While to this cooler air confest, The broad Dhatura bares her breast Of fragrant scent and virgin white, A pearl around the locks of night. Still as we pass, in softened hum Along the breezy alleys come The village song, the horn, the drum.

Still as we pass, from bush and brier, The shrill Cigala strikes his lyre; And, what is she whose liquid strain Thrills through yon copse of sugar-cane? I know that soul-entrancing swell, It is—it must be—Philomel. Enough, enough, the rustling trees Announce a shower upon the breeze, The flashes of the summer sky Assume a deeper, ruddier dye; Yon lamp that trembles on the stream. From forth our cabin sheds its beam; And we must early sleep, to find Betimes the morning's healthy wind. But oh! with thankful hearts confess E'en here there may be happiness; And He, the bounteous Sire, has given His peace on earth,—His hope of heaven.