Ruahmah monologue (Act 3) — The House of Rimmon: A Drama in Four Acts

[_Coming near._] A fairer day, dear lord, was never born In Paradise! The sapphire cup of heaven Is filled with golden wine: the earth, adorned With jewel-drops of dew, unveils her face A joyful bride, in welcome to her king. And look! He leaps upon the Eastern hills All ruddy fire, and claims her with a kiss. Yonder the snowy peaks of Hermon float Unmoving as a wind-dropt cloud. The gulf Of Jordan, filled with violet haze, conceals The rivers winding trail with wreaths of mist. Below us, marble-crowned Samaria thrones Upon her emerald hill amid the Vale Of Barley, while the plains to northward change Their colour like the shimmering necks of doves. The lark springs up, with morning on her wings, To climb her singing stairway in the blue, And all the fields are sprinkled with her joy!