BURMA, PAST AND PRESENT.
SCENE IV.aThe Lotus Lake. Mozalinda asleep under a banyan tree. Enter the seven Fairy Princesses.
O lovely lake, what sweet and tender thoughts
Thy emerald waters in my breast awake !
O fount of rapture ! Here the balmy wind
Is but the sigh of incense-breathing flowers ;a
What god, or fairy, first created thee ?
(To her sisters.) Come, let us doff our costly ornaments,
Our necklaces and chaplets set with gems,
And, as we sport amidst the crystal waves,
Our lovely forms, but half concealed, shall gleam
Like summer lightning through a silvery cloud.
[They bathe. Mozalinda awakes.
Sure I was born 'neath some auspicious star ! Happy the hour in which I first drew breath ! Yes, now I feel the proverb's homely truth " Who wins a Beauty needs desire no more." No fabled beings of inferior race Are these, but fairies of the first degree. Behold the dazzling lustre of the gems And pearls that glisten, like the morning dew, On their rich necklaces and earrings rare. Not lovelier is the moon, when all the sky Reflects the splendour of her argent rays. I faint with ecstacy ;aa sight like this Is more than poor humanity can bear.
\_He falls back insensible, then slowly recovers. These sweet perfections mock the limner's skill. O could I one of these fair bathers seize, And to our Prince present my peerless prize,\_He falls back insensible, then slowly recovers. These sweet perfections mock the limner's skill. O could I one of these fair bathers seize, And to our Prince present my peerless prize,