Moments there are, and this was one, Snatch’d like a minute’s gleam of sun Amid the black Simoom’s eclipse— Or, like those verdant spots that bloom Around the crater’s burning lips, Sweetening the very edge of doom! The past—the future—all that Fate Can bring of dark or desperate Around such hours, but makes them cast Intenser radiance while they last! Even he, this youth—though dimm’d and gone Each star of Hope that cheer’d him on— His glories lost—his cause betray’d— IRAN, his dear-lov’d country made A land of carcasses and slaves, One dreary waste of chains and graves!— Himself but lingering, dead at heart, To see the last, long struggling breath Of Liberty’s great soul depart, Then lay him down and share her death— Even he, so sunk in wretchedness, With doom still darker gathering o’er him, Yet, in this moment’s pure caress, In the mild eyes that shone before him, Beaming that blest assurance, worth All other transports known on earth, That he was lov’d—well, warmly lov’d— Oh! in this precious hour he prov’d How deep, how thorough-felt the glow Of rapture, kindling out of woe;— How exquisite one single drop Of bliss, thus sparkling to the top Of misery’s cup—how keenly quaff’d, Though death must follow on the draught! She, too, while gazing on those eyes That sink into her soul so deep, Forgets all fears, all miseries, Or feels them like a wretch in sleep, Whom fancy cheats into a smile, Who dreams of joy, and sobs the while! The mighty Ruins where they stood, Upon the mount’s high, rocky verge, Lay open tow’rds the ocean flood, Where lightly o’er the illumin’d surge Many a fair bark that, all the day, Had lurk’d in sheltering creek or bay, Now bounded on, and gave their sails, Yet dripping, to the evening gales; Like eagles, when the storm is done, Spreading their wet wings in the sun. The beauteous clouds, though daylight’s Star Had sunk behind the hills of LAR, Were still with lingering glories bright,— As if, to grace the gorgeous West, The Spirit of departing Light That eve had left his sunny vest Behind him, ere he wing’d his flight. Never was scene so form’d for love! Beneath them waves of crystal move In silent swell—Heaven glows above, And their pure hearts, to transport given, Swell like the wave, and glow like Heaven.