This embassage of what I write to love's deceased frame,
Of another rent at midnight lease, foreshadow'd by light;
For the ransom paid by twice to that forfeited dark,
That through e'ery pouring shadow, my mind, to e'er living memory,
Oft illumines more bright, in seraph wings of gold, a star-lit night,
Too soon shall fade in fair aspect of cold repose
Against the world of thy most high deserts:
Else thy Muse of allured looks to my eyes so blind
Than to witness beauty under the canopy of a hut;
Where but least I find e'ery flower upon a barren hath,
Fills the page with thy unattended presence in graceful ease.
(C) Naveed Khalid
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