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There—in solitudes sweet smelling,
Where the mighty Banyan stands,
I and she have found a dwelling
Shadowed by its giant hands:
All around our banyan bowers
Shine the reddening palm-tree ranks,
And the wild rare forest flowers
Crowded on high purple banks.
Through the long enchanted weather
—Ere the swollen fruits yet fall,
While red love-birds sit together
In thick green, and voices call
From the hidden forest places,
And are answered with strange shout
By the folk whose myriad faces
All day long are peeping out
From shy loopholes all above us
In the leafy hollows green,
—While all creatures seem to love us,
And the lofty boughs are seen
