In Irza’s sight he wore the livelong day,
And show’d her living springs and noontide shades,
Spice-breathing groves, and flower-enamell’d glades.
For her he still selects the sweetest roots,
The coolest waters, and the loveliest fruits;
To deck her charms the softest furs he brings,
And plucks their plumage from flamingo wings;
Bids blooming shrubs, to shade her, bend in bowers,
And strews her couch with fragrant herbs and flowers
While many an ivy-twisted grate restrains