When all around, like it, is beautiful.
There were sweet birds to count the hours, and roses,
Like those on which a blushing cheek reposes,
Violets as fresh as violets could be;
Stars over head, with each a history
Of love told by its light; and waving trees
And perfumed breathings upon every breeze."
L. E. L.
But their intercourse was soon stopped, it seemed too beautiful
for earth; Leander, however, thought not of this, but with the enthusiastic ardour of youth, looked forward to a long life of delights. The day to him was a dull blank, and was employed in watching the spot, where at night he saw the beacon which cheered his way. But alas! the change came too soon.