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Soft as it were but beauty's smile That lit her favourite bower the while. Back from each open lattice flew The curtains, like swoll'n waves of blue Star-dropt with silvery broidery rare; And every motion seem'd to bear A message from the grove beneath,— Each message was a rose's breath. A thousand flowers were round the room, All with their gifts of scent and bloom; And at the far end of the hall Like music came a lulling fall Of waters; at the midnight time Play'd from the fount a liquid chime, As 't were the honey-dews of sleep 'Lighting, each lid in rest to steep.