T’ our tale.—The feast was over, the slaves gone,
The dwarfs and dancing girls had all retired;
The Arab lore and Poet’s song were done,
And every sound of revelry expired;
The lady and her lover, left alone,
The rosy flood of Twilight’s sky admired;—
Ave Maria! o’er the earth and sea,
That heavenliest hour of Heaven is worthiest thee!