138 On the Ballads and Legends of tie Punjab. [No. 2. 



In golden chain suspended hung from the black vault on high 

 A glorious gem, which pencils flung of each etherial dye ; 

 But crimson as the maiden's lip, when love wibh venom'd dart 

 Hath stung the rose he feign'd to sip, and pierc'd the trusting heart, 

 It's innate hue ; and all around partook the roseate dye ; 

 And still where warmest hues abound, bright golden flashes fly : 

 And basking in that wondrous ray, hemm'd in with night profound, 

 A beauteous maid extended lay in slumber's trammels bound. 

 One arm of rounded ivory o'er the downy cushion hung, 

 From whose bright coil its silken store the sweet head graceful flung. 

 In many a rich, unfetter' d fold, as from an urn most rare, 

 Gush'd the bright stream of wavy gold, the rich, dark, auburn hair, 

 Strewing the carpet's velvet fine : — the roseate pillow well 

 Eeliev'd her features' faultless line, her soft cheek's matchless swell, 

 The slender throat's transparent sheen, the polish' d shoulder bright, 

 And one sweet orb that half was seen, half shunn'd the gazer's sight. 

 Pale was the cheek as lily flower, when roses bloom around ; 

 Tranc'd the blue eye's soul kindling power, in slumbers hushprofoundt 

 Yet scarce the lids soft-feathery snow, their radiance might confine, 

 Which streak'd their lustre teeming glow in many a violet line. 

 And where the long, black lashes lay, like children of the night, 

 Hush'd on the spotless breast of day, o'erflow'd th' excess of light. 



High is the privilege thus to bend o'er beauty's hallow' d rest, 

 Scaring afar each lawless fiend, might desecrate the breast. 

 And aw'd by influence new and sweet, he breathless hung the while, 

 And fain had still' d the heart's wild beat, the vagrant Fancy's wile. 

 As o'er some st ar- watch' d mountain lake, the jealous breeze will fly, 

 An instant, heav'n's blest image break, then mocking, whirr on high. 

 So, whiles o'er that translucent brow, slight, ruffling shadows veer, 

 Now clench' d the fairy hand of snow, now starts th' unconscious 



tear. 

 Again as in an April sky, the transient shade is flown, 

 Sweet peace hath calm'd the curtain' d eye and made the brow her 



throne. 

 The lips their rubies half dispart, half show the pearls enshrin'd, 

 The vermeil tides which warm her heart, her cheek's cold lilies find. 



