Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.

Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen. Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.

But I behold a fearful sign,To which the white men's eyes are blind;Their race may vanish hence, like mine,And leave no trace behind,Save ruins o'er the region spread,And the white stones above the dead.

Waters are distilled out of Herbs, Flowers, Fruits, and Roots.

Faith is knowing there is an ocean because you have seen a brook.

A Persian's heaven is easily made: 'Tis but black eyes and lemonade