. Poems . CANTO XL Evening—a bam/uet—the ghost of Cazziva. The tamarind closed her leaves; the marmosetDreamed on his bough, and played the mimic from the lake the breeze of twilight blew,And vast and deep the mountain-shadows grew;When many a fire-fly, shooting thro the the locks of many a lovely maid, L L 258 ^^ho now danced forth to strew our \rMh with flowers,And hymn our welcome to celestial bowers, * There odorous lamps adorned the festal rite,And guavas blushed as in the vales of silent sate many an unbidden Guest,Whose steadfast looks a secret dread

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. Poems . CANTO XL Evening—a bam/uet—the ghost of Cazziva. The tamarind closed her leaves; the marmosetDreamed on his bough, and played the mimic from the lake the breeze of twilight blew,And vast and deep the mountain-shadows grew;When many a fire-fly, shooting thro the the locks of many a lovely maid, L L 258 ^^ho now danced forth to strew our \rMh with flowers,And hymn our welcome to celestial bowers, * There odorous lamps adorned the festal rite,And guavas blushed as in the vales of silent sate many an unbidden Guest,Whose steadfast looks a secret dread impressed;Not there forgot the sacred fruit that fedAt nightly feasts the Spirits of the Dead,Mingling in scenes that mirth to mortals give,But by their sadness known from those that live. There met, as erst, within the wonted grove,Unmarried girls and youths that died for love!Sons now beheld their ancient sires again;And sires, alas, their sons in battle slain! But whence that sigh ? Twas from a hea

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Keywords: ., bookauthorrogerssamue, bookcentury1800, bookidpoemssam00rogerich