THE NAHOON.
Where the breath of the ocean encumbers
The air with its languorous balm,
And weaves o'er the forest that slumbers
The spell of its health-giving calm;
There the spirit of Peace hath its dwelling,
And, rich round the wanderer's feet,
In the groves where clear waters are welling,
The dream-fragrant lotus blooms sweet.
The lagoon like a scimitar gleaming
In the conqueror ocean's strong hand,
Pierces through the bright hills that, a-dreaming,
Through seasons and centuries stand;
Whilst the tide, with its message of greeting,
Sweeps up from the surf to the rills,
And the murmurous joy of their meeting
The valley with melody fills.
Here each season, like spring, is a revel
Of flower and sunshine and song,
And leads to the banquet its novel
Delights in a wildering throng;
As a pageant of beauty, with guerdon
Of richness to spirit and sense,
Come the days bearing hither their burden
Of sweets for the hours to dispense.
