Classic Poem

FROM DANTE .

'T was eve's soft hour, and bright, above,
The star of beauty beamed,
While lulled by light so full of love,
In slumber thus I dreamed—
Methought, at that sweet hour,
A nymph came o'er the lea,
Who, gathering many a flower,
Thus said and sung to me:—
“Should any ask what Leila loves,
“Say thou, To wreathe her hair
“With flowerets culled from glens and groves,
“Is Leila's only care.
“While thus in quest of flowers rare,
“O'er hill and dale I roam,
“My sister, Rachel, far more fair,
“Sits lone and mute at home.
“Before her glass untiring,
“With thoughts that never stray,
“Her own bright eyes admiring,
“She sits the live-long day;
“While I!—oh, seldom even a look
“Of self salutes my eye;
“My only glass, the limpid brook,
“That shines and passes by.”