|
so:text
|
O mighty Prince, whose majesty sublime
Scarce deigns to mount the piebald steed of Time;
Whose judgment hits the mark of empire high,
As 'twere an arrow quivered in the Sky–
To-day hath Heav'n arrayed his cloudy throne,
The wind shoots keener shafts than Arish's own;
On every mountain-angle snowflakes star
The landscape, like a jewelled scimitar.
And I have graced my song, as well I may,
With the sweet prelude of another's lay.
For whose'er of such a day hath sight,
to his mind will come the line,
"To-day's the day for tent and fire and wine."
The Nine Spheres' influence keep thee safe and fast,
While the Four Elements and Six Directions last! (en) |
