The fountain in his own divan;
And while he hears its gurgling sound,
He sees his loved ones all around.
XXXIII.
Dream on—dream on—for never more
Thou’lt pass the threshold of thy door.
Smile not, young Selim! death is near,
Though Hope is whisp’ring in thine ear!
No—Selim—no—’tis but the strife
When mortals bid adieu to life.