📔 The Giaour

The insect-queen of eastern spring, / O'er emerald meadows of Kashmeer / Invites the young pursuer near, / And leads him on from flower to flower / A weary chase and wasted hour.

Not oft to smile descendeth he, / And when he doth 'tis sad to see / That he but mocks at Misery.

And every woe a tear can claim / Except an erring sister's shame.