XVIII.
COME slowly, Eden!
Lips unused to thee,
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars—enters,
And is lot in balms!
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XVIII.
Lassan jöjj, Éden,
Ajkam nem szokott,
Szimatolja félve,
Mint méh, jázminod.
Lekésve virágzást
Döng kelyhe körül,
Nektárért bújik be,
S balzsamba merül.
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