TEN thousand tulips bloom in MAVRA’s vale,
Ten thousand gems in CORGA’s rocks are borne,
Ten thousand odours scent the vernal gale,
Ten thousand splendors crown the orient morn.
Ten thousand beauties eagerly conspire
To blend, celestial! in the Maid I love;
Ten thousand zephyrs fan the fond desire,
And waft her fancied form where’er I rove.
Ten thousand hour-long moments gloom away
In sad anxiety the wakeful night:
Ten thousand rising fears distract the day,
While for her safety all my hopes unite.
As many dark-brow’d guilty terrors scowl
Around the wretch who tore me from her charms,
As many seraphs shield her spotless soul,
Till time restore her to my longing arms.
But vain are blessings—maledictions vain;
DEATH guards yon dire inexorable gate.
HEAVEN guards the just:—shall ACHMED then complaint
Ten thousand armies cannot vanquish FATE.