Poems by Two Brothers 2nd ed. [by Charles Tennyson] |
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WRITTEN
BY AN EXILE OF BASSORAH,
WHILE SAILING DOWN THE EUPHRATES |
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 | Poems by Two Brothers |  |
43
WRITTEN BY AN EXILE OF BASSORAH, WHILE SAILING DOWN THE EUPHRATES
Thou land of the Lily! thy gay flowers are blooming
In joy on thine hills, but they bloom not for me;
For a dark gulf of woe, all my fond hopes entombing,
Has roll'd its black waves 'twixt this lone heart and thee.
In joy on thine hills, but they bloom not for me;
For a dark gulf of woe, all my fond hopes entombing,
Has roll'd its black waves 'twixt this lone heart and thee.
The far-distant hills, and the groves of my childhood,
Now stream in the light of the sun's setting ray;
And the tall-waving palms of my own native wildwood
In the blue haze of distance are melting away.
Now stream in the light of the sun's setting ray;
And the tall-waving palms of my own native wildwood
In the blue haze of distance are melting away.
I see thee, Bassorah! in splendour retiring,
Where thy waves and thy walls in their majesty meet;
I see the bright glory thy pinnacles firing,
And the broad vassal river that rolls at thy feet.
Where thy waves and thy walls in their majesty meet;
I see the bright glory thy pinnacles firing,
And the broad vassal river that rolls at thy feet.
44
I see thee but faintly—thy tall towers are beaming
On the dusky horizon so far and so blue;
And minaret and mosque in the distance are gleaming,
While the coast of the stranger expands on my view.
On the dusky horizon so far and so blue;
And minaret and mosque in the distance are gleaming,
While the coast of the stranger expands on my view.
I see thee no more: for the deep waves have parted
The land of my birth from her desolate son;
And I am gone from thee, though half broken-hearted,
To wander thro' climes where thy name is unknown.
The land of my birth from her desolate son;
And I am gone from thee, though half broken-hearted,
To wander thro' climes where thy name is unknown.
Farewell to my harp, which I hung in my anguish
On the lonely palmetto that nods to the gale;
For its sweet-breathing tones in forgetfulness languish,
And around it the ivy shall weave a green veil.
On the lonely palmetto that nods to the gale;
For its sweet-breathing tones in forgetfulness languish,
And around it the ivy shall weave a green veil.
Farewell to the days which so smoothly have glided
With the maiden whose look was like Cama's young glance,
And the sheen of whose eyes was the load-star which guided
My course on this earth thro' the storms of mischance!
With the maiden whose look was like Cama's young glance,
And the sheen of whose eyes was the load-star which guided
My course on this earth thro' the storms of mischance!
A. T.
| Poems by Two Brothers | |