Now, as 'tis hidden by those drifts of cloud,
With one thin edge just glimmering through the dark,
'Tis like some strange, rich jewel of the east,
In the cleft side of a mountain.
And that reminds me—speaking of jewels—love,
There is a set of turquoise at Malan's,
Ear-drops and bracelets and a necklace—ah!
If they were mine.
Lara.
And so they should be, dear,