When I beheld thy blue eyes shine
Thro' the bright drop that pity drew,
I saw beneath those tears of thine
A blue-ey'd violet bath'd in dew.
The violet ever scents the gale,
Its hues adorn the fairest wreath,
But sweetest thro' a dewy veil
Its colors glow, its odors breathe.
And thus thy charms in brightness rise--
When wit and pleasure round thee play,
When mirth sits smiling in thine eyes,
Who but admires their sprightly ray?
But when thro' pity's flood they gleam,
Who but must love their soften'd beam?
_Ebn Alrumi_.
[19] Ebn Alrumi is reckoned by the Arabian writers as one of the most
excellent of all their poets. He was by birth a Syrian, and passed
the greatest part of his time at Emessa, where he died A.H. 283.