INEZ.
Alas, that clouds should ever steal
O'er Love's delicious sky;
That ever Love's sweet lip should feel
Aught but the gentlest sigh!
Love is a pearl of purest hue,
But stormy waves are round it;
And dearly may a woman rue
The hour that first she found it!
The lips that breathed this song were fair
As those the rose-touched Houries wear,
And dimpled by a smile, whose spell
Not even sighs could quite dispel;
And eyes of that dark azure light
Seen only at the deep midnight;
