FLORAL CEREMONIES. 
135 
We seek the cooling fountain, 
Alas ! we seek in vain ; 
The cloud that crowns the mountain 
Melts not away in rain. 
The stream is shrunk, which through our plain 
Once glided bright and clear ; 
Oh ! ope the secret springs again— 
Allah ! Father !—hear! 
We bring thee flowers, sweet flowers, 
All withered in their prime ; 
No moisture glistens on their leaves, 
They sickened ere their time. 
And we, like them, shall pass away, 
Ere wintry days are near ; 
Shoujdst thou not hearken as we pray— 
Allah! Father !—hear! 
