[46]. “Who loves me with the love of heaven,” is the only translation I can render of these untranslatable words.
“Oh! rightly, justly named the fair,
There is a magic in thine air,
A gladness in thine atmosphere,
Where floating particles of joy,
With hidden hope the spirits buoy,
And every feeling cheer.
“Fair city of the myriad towers,
How oft my heart will yearn
Towards thee and thine and those dear hours