FABLES OF FLORA. 
104 
Strange trees and fruits above him hung, 
Strange odors filled the sultry air, 
Strange birds upon the branches swung, 
Strange insect voices murmured there. 
And strange bright blossoms shone around, 
Turned sunward from the shadowy bowers, 
As if the Gheber’s soul had found 
A fitting home in Iran’s flowers. 
Whate’er he saw, whate’er he heard, 
Awakened feelings new and sad, — 
No Christian garb, nor Christian word, 
Nor church, with Sabbath bell-chimes glad. 
But Moslem graves, with turban-stones, 
And mosque-spires gleaming white, in view, 
And graybeard Mollahs, in low tones, 
Chanth^ their Koran service through. 
As if the burning eye of Baal 
The servant of his Conqueror knew, 
From skies which knew no cloudy veil, 
The sun’s hot glances smote him through. 
The flowers which smiled on either hand, 
Like tempting fiends, were such as they 
Which once, o’er all that Eastern land, 
As gifts on demon-altars lay. 
