No more with vivid bloom he smil’d;
Ah! where was tranquil Reason now,
To cast her shadow o’er the child?
Beneath a green and aged palm,
His foot at length for shelter turning;
He saw the maid reclining calm,
With brow as cool as his was burning.
“Oh take me to your bosom cold!”
In murmurs at her feet he said,
And Reason oped her garment’s fold,