AMIR KHAN.
PART I.
Brightly O'er spire, and dome, and tower,The pale moon shone at midnight hour,While all beneath her smile of lightWas resting there in calm delight:Evening, with robe of stars, appears,Bright as repentant Peri's tears,And o'er her turban's fleecy foldNight's crescent streamed with rays of gold;While every crystal cloud of heavenBowed as it passed the queen of even.
Beneath, calm Cashmere's lovely vale1Breathed perfumes to the sighing gale;The amaranth and tuberose,Convolvulus in deep repose,Bent to each breeze which swept their bed,Or scarcely kissed the dew, and fled;The bulbul, with his lay of love,2Sang, 'mid the stillness of the grove;The gulnare blushed a deeper hue,3And trembling shed a shower of dew,
