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Article THE POET'S LOVE. Page 1 of 1 Article SONG OF THE ARAB CHIEF. Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Poet's Love.
THE POET'S LOVE .
Oh , say not the poet ' s warm fancy can paint , Or dream of emotions he never has felt ; Nor compare him with sunbeams that , languidly faint . Never make the cold snow-covered Appenine melt . Nor fancy his lips , while they breathe thus of love ,
But borrow the radiant verbiage they wear , From the theme , while they nought of its truth ever prove , But , cameleon-like , seem of the hue that is near , Oh ! no , tho' his tongue may breathe language of fire , Ancl his words may , like lightning , where ' er they fall burn ; They image but faintly the flame of desire ,
That lights up his soul , as the taper the urn . The flame that bursts forth from the volcano ' s brim , Rolling , torrent-like , down in precipitous tide , Tho' vividly flowing , is faint , cold , and dim . Compared with the fire raging fiercely inside . E . R , MORAN , August , 1838 , ( AA ' . M . No . 49 . )
Song Of The Arab Chief.
SONG OF THE ARAB CHIEF .
My Arab steed , my Arab steed , Over the desert flying , AVith arched neck exerts his speed , All vain pursuit defying , The Simoom ' s glance , The robber ' s lance , Alike pass hurtless by ,
Their search is vain , AVe cross the plain , My Arab steed and I , My Arab steed , my Arab steed , Over the war plain bounding , Is with me in the hour of need ; Though death is fly ing round him .
The sabre ' s gleam , And lance ' s beam , Ancl baffled foemen try , Their speed is vain , AVe scour the plain . My Arab steed and I . J . F . S , VOL , V . Y Y
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Poet's Love.
THE POET'S LOVE .
Oh , say not the poet ' s warm fancy can paint , Or dream of emotions he never has felt ; Nor compare him with sunbeams that , languidly faint . Never make the cold snow-covered Appenine melt . Nor fancy his lips , while they breathe thus of love ,
But borrow the radiant verbiage they wear , From the theme , while they nought of its truth ever prove , But , cameleon-like , seem of the hue that is near , Oh ! no , tho' his tongue may breathe language of fire , Ancl his words may , like lightning , where ' er they fall burn ; They image but faintly the flame of desire ,
That lights up his soul , as the taper the urn . The flame that bursts forth from the volcano ' s brim , Rolling , torrent-like , down in precipitous tide , Tho' vividly flowing , is faint , cold , and dim . Compared with the fire raging fiercely inside . E . R , MORAN , August , 1838 , ( AA ' . M . No . 49 . )
Song Of The Arab Chief.
SONG OF THE ARAB CHIEF .
My Arab steed , my Arab steed , Over the desert flying , AVith arched neck exerts his speed , All vain pursuit defying , The Simoom ' s glance , The robber ' s lance , Alike pass hurtless by ,
Their search is vain , AVe cross the plain , My Arab steed and I , My Arab steed , my Arab steed , Over the war plain bounding , Is with me in the hour of need ; Though death is fly ing round him .
The sabre ' s gleam , And lance ' s beam , Ancl baffled foemen try , Their speed is vain , AVe scour the plain . My Arab steed and I . J . F . S , VOL , V . Y Y