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| THERE’S 1 a bright sunny spot where the cinnamon trees | |
| Shed their richest perfumes to the soft wooing breeze; | |
| Where the rose is as sweet and as bright is the sky, | |
| As the balm of thy breath and the glance of thine eye. | |
| And clouds pass as soon o’er that beautiful Isle, | 5 |
| As the tear on thy cheek disappears at thy smile. | |
| Come! haste thee, fair Irene, oh! haste thee with me, | |
| To that far distant land in the Ægean sea. | |
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| Light breezes are swelling the gossamer sail, | |
| Of my love-freighted bark for the evergreen vale; | 10 |
| And loudly the night bird is chanting her lay, | |
| To rouse thee from slumber—away and away— | |
| We ’ll land at the groves and the wild flowers there, | |
| I ’ll twine in a wreath for thy soft flaxen hair; | |
| And we ’ll roam like the antelope, reckless and free, | 15 |
| O’er that bright sunny Isle in the Ægean sea. | |
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| Soft music is there—for the mermaiden’s shell, | |
| Is often heard winding through mountain and dell; | |
| And the song of the sea spirits steals from the shore, | |
| With the low sullen sound of the waves’ distant roar. | 20 |
| And the tones of thy voice—oh! how sweetly they ’ll blend, | |
| With the strains which the harps of the Ocean Nymphs send; | |
| While I list to the notes as they float on the lea, | |
| Of that far distant land in the Ægean sea. | |
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| Far—far ’mid its bowers sequester’d and lone, | 25 |
| Young Love hath erected a jessamine throne; | |
| And sworn with an oath which no mortal may say, | |
| That none but the fairest its sceptre shall sway. | |
| Then haste thee, fair Irene, oh! haste thee tonight, | |
| While the stars are yet pale, and the moon is yet bright, | 30 |
| For, love, he hath destined that sceptre for thee | |
| In that bright sunny Isle of the Ægean sea. | |
