WHERE are you flown, ye hours of gay Delight,

When countless BEAUTIES crowding on my view,

Seem’d by some mystic concord to unite,

In forms of fair enjoyment, ever new?

 

When, as the nectar’d goblet pour’d around

Its smiling treasures to the sons of JOY:

The echoing roofs learnt only to resound,

‘These, these are pleasures that can never cloy.’

 

Then, spurning ev’ry fear of FORTUNE’s frown,

TIME’s rapid progress, or the shafts of FATE;

I fondly call’d thee, SELIMA! my own,

And deem’d my raptures of no mortal date.

 

‘Let holy DERVISHES,* of EDEN dream,

And clasp the visions of celestial bliss,

They ne’er beheld thy heav’nly beauty’s beam,

Nor from thy lips received a HOURI’s kiss.

 

‘O let my soul, transported as I gaze,

Proclaim thy triumph o’er the rising day;

See, light-wing’d clouds obscure his blushful blaze,

While gladden’d NATURE hails thy living ray!

 

‘O SELIMA! Enchantment reigns around,

Whene’er thy magic fingers touch the lyre;

But when thy voice accords its sweeter sound,

Ev’n listning SERAPHS with delight expire!’

 

Thus, I, exulting in each rapturous hour,

Ne’er bade my heart with grateful ardors glow,

To HIM whose goodness gave: his vengeful power

Reversed each charm, and plunged me deep in woe.

 

Yet, can my wounded spirit e’er repine?

Has it not known the HEART’s supremest joy?

The blest IDEA ever shall be mine,

Nor can ETERNITY that bliss destroy.