Beauty, in horror’s lap that sleeps,
While silence round her vigil keeps.
Rest, weary pilgrims! calmly laid
To slumber in th’ acacia shade:
Rest, where the shrubs your camels bruise
Their aromatic breath diffuse;
Where softer light the sunbeams pour
Through the tall palm and sycamore;
And the rich date luxuriant spreads
Its pendant clusters o’er your heads.