Page:Translations from Camoens; and Other Poets.pdf/53



Speed, zephyr! kiss each opening flower, Its fragrant spirit make thine own; Then wing thy way to Rosa's bower, Ere her light sleep is flown.

There, o'er her downy pillow, fly, Wake the sweet maid to life and day; Breathe on her balmy lip a sigh, And o'er her bosom play;

And whisper, when her eyes unveil, That I, since morning's earliest call, Have sighed her name to every gale, By the lone waterfall.