“Thou’rt welcome to England!” each verdant bough
“Exclaims with joyous assurance;
“We’re heartily glad, O monarch, that thou
“Hast escap’d from thine Austrian durance.”
The king snuffs up the free air the while,
Like a newborn creature lives he;
He thinks of his Austrian dungeon vile,—
And his spurs to his proud horse gives he.
THE ASRA.
Daily went the wondrous lovely
Sultan’s daughter at the cooling
Hour of evening to the fountain,
Where the waters white were plashing.
Daily at the hour of evening
Stood the young slave at the fountain
Where the waters white were plashing,
Daily grew he pale and paler.
And one evening came the princess,
And these sudden words address’d him:
“Thou must tell me what thy name is,
“And thy country and thy kindred!”
And the slave replied: “My name is
“Mahomet, I came from Yemmen,
“And my race is of those Asras,
“Who, whene’er they love, must perish.”
THE NUNS.
Who at night the convent walls
Passes, sees the windows brightly
Lighted up, for there the spectres
Make their gloomy circuit nightly.
’Tis dead Ursulines that join
In the sad and dark procession;
From the linen hoods are peeping
Faces young of sweet expression.