Vain is her gaze, and hopeless are her sighs <br />Fast from her mocked embrace each phantom flies <br />O Catherine de Medicis! these throbs restrain <br />Whose dark edges never catch the shine of Heaven <br /> <br />All the drear waste for a peaceful adorning <br />Brief as the sparkling dew that hangs on morning <br />Searching for the green tints of Joy and Youth <br />That Passion mistakes it for the form of Truth <br /> <br />When on Dublin, and the rainy steep <br />Shall borrow the drowsy charm of sleep <br />For flames which in hers burn in truest heart <br />Or those which waste not in the mediaeval art <br /> <br />Late hidden as wonders past, like the trembling snow <br />Melted and thrown, with what fate must know <br />Sweet verses are loving to do as honey prove <br />Then show her jealous' dislike, and end in Love<br /><br />Ahmad Shiddiqi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-10-2/
