THOU land of the Lily! thy gay flowers are blooming In joy on thine hills, but they bloom not for me; For a dark gulf of woe, all my fond hopes entombing, Has roll'd its black waves 'twixt this lono heart and thee. The far-distant hills, and the groves of my childhood, Now stream in the light of the sun's setting ray; And the tall-waving palms of my own native wildwood In the blue haze of distance are melting away. I see thee, Bassorah! in splendour retiring, Where thy waves and thy walls in their majesty meet; I see the bright glory thy pinnacles firing, And the broad vassal river that rolls at thy feet. I see thee but faintly -- thy tall towers are beaming On the dusky horizon so far and so blue; And minaret and mosque in the distance are gleaming, While the coast of the stranger expands on my view. I see thee no more: for the deep waves have parted The land of my birth from her desolate son; And I am gone from thee, though half brokenhearted, To wander thro' climes where thy name is unknown. Farewell to my harp, which I hung in my anguish On the lonely palmetto that nods to the gale; For its sweet-breathing tones in forgetfulness languish, And around it the ivy shall weave a green veil. Farewell to the days which so smoothly have glided With the maiden whose look was like Cama's young glance, And the sheen of whose eyes was the load-star which guided My course on this earth thro' the storms of mischance! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB by THOMAS GRAY LOST ART by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CHERRY TREE IN AUTUMN by MARIE DAVIES WARREN BECKNER RAINY SEASON by HARRIET GRAY BLACKWELL |