Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorched
breast—
It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread.
Said I: "O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe a
kiss."
Smiling rose-like, "Surely, surely, by my life," she answered.
As I weep sore, of my stained eyebrow and my tears of
blood,
"'Tis the rainbow o'er the shower stretched," were by all beholders
said.