The rose garden of Persia . 161 HIS lament. She left her tents for me—abandoned all ? . V The wealth, the state her beaaty well might ^laim:Alas! the guerdon of hpr truth, how small—Alas! what had I, but a soldiers name,?A sword—a steed, my faithful, fainting one, , Whose course is, like his masters, almost done. ,I led her here to die—to die !—when earthHas lands so beautiful, and scenes so fair, , Cities and realms, and mines of cpunt- - less worth;Monarchs—with proud sultanas all < | their ,care,And none with Zarah worthy to com pare!Yet here she lies—a broken cloud !— this gem, ,^1 Fit


The rose garden of Persia . 161 HIS lament. She left her tents for me—abandoned all ? . V The wealth, the state her beaaty well might ^laim:Alas! the guerdon of hpr truth, how small—Alas! what had I, but a soldiers name,?A sword—a steed, my faithful, fainting one, , Whose course is, like his masters, almost done. ,I led her here to die—to die !—when earthHas lands so beautiful, and scenes so fair, , Cities and realms, and mines of cpunt- - less worth;Monarchs—with proud sultanas all < | their ,care,And none with Zarah worthy to com pare!Yet here she lies—a broken cloud !— this gem, ,^1 Fit for the first in Indias diadem i I was like that tree,^^^^ all parity,I ere the hand of man approachthe bough L ^kt{ Oh, she [jW^f Which, (SjumJi the. THJ5 jfAINTlNG MOTHEB. 165 No bird or creeping insect suffers nigh,Nor shelter to ought evil will allow;But once tte fruit is plucked, there ends the charm—Dark birds and baneful creatures round it Thou selfish Aiass, hast destroyed thd tree,Behold its scathed by thee!Is there no hope ;^^revive, my noble steed,Fail not thy master at his utmOist need;Thou canst, thou, wilt support her gentley weight ?Courage!—thou wert not wont to deem it little further—yet one effort more—And, if we perish then, our miseries are o^, ohl—my child! the fainting mother cried,Myarmsarefeeble,and support thou, lost Aiass, death is in thy face:-Why should we strive to quit this hideous place ?My babe and I can perish by thy side—Oh! let our graves be in this fatal


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdeca, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookyear1887