The Giaour - A Fragment of a Turkish Tale #227408

His thousand songs are heard on high, Blooms blushing to her lover's tale; His queen, the garden queen, his Rose, Unbent by winds, unchill'd by snows, Far from the winters of the west By every breeze and season blest, Returns the sweets by nature given In softest incense back to heaven; And grateful yields that smiling sky Her fairest hue and fragrant sigh. And many a summer flower is there, And many a shade that love might share.