On the Asiatic Valley of the Sweet Waters,
at Constantinople.

Bright Vale of Enchantments !—thy waters and trees 1
Together seem trembling in joy to the breeze, 2
Which just ruffles them lightly enough but to bring 3
Forth their sweetness and brightness—so smile they and sing.4
Green Vale of Delights !—I could wander in peace 5
Thro’ thy windings for long, but such wanderings must cease ; 6
In thy bosom of beauty encradled too dear 7
Should this world and its idle illusions appear.8
Bright Vale of Sweet Waters !—from thee then I fly, 9
I must look on life’s truth with a fixed fearless eye, 10
And behold that dark rock of the soul—this cold world, 11
In no folds of a dreamy deliciousness furled !12
Fair Vale of Sweet Waters! farewell !— then farewell ! 13
Happier spirits than mine mid your green shades should dwell ; 14
For pain weakens the soul, and when pleasure there wakes, 15
To its centre and core that worn spirit she shakes.16