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when of yore They gladly hailed the Genoese,-- That daring soul who gave to Spain A world--last trophy of her reign! Basking in beauty, thou dost seem A vision in a poet's dream! Thou look'st as though thou claim'st not birth With sea and sky and other earth, That smile around thee but to show Thy beauty in a brighter glow,-- That are unto thee as the foil Artistic hands have featly set Around Golconda's radiant spoil, To grace some lofty coronet,-- A foil which serves to make the gem The glory of that diadem! * * * * * If Eden claimed a favored haunt, Most hallowed of that blessed ground, Where tempting fiend with guileful taunt A resting-place would ne'er have found,-- As shadowing it well might seek The loveliest home in that fair isle, Which in its radiance seemed to speak As to the charmed doth Beauty's smile, That whispers of a thousand things For which words find no picturings. Like to the gifted Greek who strove To paint a crowning work of art, And form his ideal Queen of Love, By choosing from each grace a part, Blending them in one beauteous whole, To charm the eye, transfix the soul, And hold it in enraptured fires, Such as a dream of heaven inspires,-- So seem the glad waves to have sought From every place its richest treasure, And borne it to that lovely spot, To found thereon a home of pleasure;-- A home where balmy airs might float Through spicy bower and orange grove; Where bright-winged birds might turn the note Which tells of pure and constant love; Where earthquake stay its demon force, And hurricane its wrathful course; Where nymph and fairy find a home, And foot of spoiler never come. * * * * * And Oge stands mid this array Of matchless beauty, but his brow Is brightened not by pleasure's play; He stands unmoved--nay, saddened now, As doth the lorn and mateless bird That constant mourns, whilst all unheard, The breezes freighted with the strains Of other songsters sweep the plain,-- That ne'er breathes forth a joyous note, Though odors on the zephyrs
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