From “The Bride of Abydos”
KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle
  Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime;
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
  Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,
Where the flowers ever blossom, and beams ever shine;
Where the light wings...