human
Oh I to see it at sunset,--when warm o'er the Lake Its splendour at parting a summer eve throws, Like a bride, full of blushes, when ling'ring to take A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes!-- When the shrines through the foliage are gleaming half-shown, And each hallows the hour by some rites of its own. Here the music of prayer from a minaret swells, Here the Magian his urn full of perfume is swinging, And here, at the altar, a zone of sweet bells Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is ringing. Or to see it by moonlight,--when mellowly shines The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines; When the waterfalls gleam like a quick fall of stars, And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet From the cool, shining walks where the young people meet.-- Or at morn, when the magic of daylight awakes A new wonder each minute, as slowly it breaks, Hills, cupolas, fountains, call'd forth every one Out of darkness, as they were just horn of the sun, When the Spirit of Fragrance is up with the day, From his harem of night-flowers stealing away; And the wind, full of wantonness, wooes like a lover The young aspen-trees till they tremble all over. When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes, And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurl'd, Shines in through the mountainous portal that opes, Sublime, from that Valley of bliss to the world!
gpt
There's a beauty, for ever unchangingly bright, Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer day's light, Shining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender, Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendour.
human
The poplars are felled, farewell to the shade,