A Sea of Foliage Girds our Garden round

A sea of foliage girds our garden round, But not a sea of dull unvaried green, Sharp contrasts of all colors here are seen;The light-green graceful tamarinds aboundAmid the mango clumps of green profound, And palms arise, like pillars gray, between; And o'er the quiet pools the seemuls lean,Red-red, and startling like a trumpet's sound.But nothing can be lovelier than the ranges Of bamboos to the eastward, when the moonLooks through their gaps, and the white lotus changes Into a cup of silver. One might swoon Drunken with beauty then, or gaze and gaze On a primeval Eden, in amaze.