BY C. P. CRANCH.
In the garden waves the Palm-tree.
Far beyond the Ocean lies,
Over me bends all the softness
Of the deep Italian skies.
In the garden waves the Palm-tree,
And the wind is flowing cool,
Rustling in the feathery branches
Tipped with moonlight deep and full.
Far in Indian wildernesses
Float away my fancy’s wings
To the desert and the gardens
Watered by Elysian springs.
Where the dread simoom is blowing,
Where, the groves of Araby,
Islanded in green cases,
Lie beyond the sandy sea.
By the fount the camels kneeling
Stoop to drink the blessed waters,
While with orient vases coming
Gather round the Syrian daughters.
Where old Nile is overflowing,
And the Sphynx with heavy lids
Sits by ruins grim and sombre—
Onward to the Pyramids.
Onward through Judea’s mountains,
Still o’er deserts parched and white,
Till the banks of mighty Ganges
Yield their odors to the night.
Gentle Palm of rocky Capri
Waving in the silvery light,
Thou hast stirred a thousand fancies,
Led me far this summer night.
Far in Morning Land I wandered
Where the summer! never cease,
And Romance’s golden waters
Ever run and murmur peace.
CAPRI, July, 1848.