Mimma Bella By Eugene Lee-Hamilton: With portrait of author |
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 | Mimma Bella |  |
59
XXIX.
What essences from Idumean palm,
What ambergris, what sacerdotal wine,
What Arab myrrh, what spikenard would be thine,
If I could swathe thy memory in such balm!
What ambergris, what sacerdotal wine,
What Arab myrrh, what spikenard would be thine,
If I could swathe thy memory in such balm!
O for wrecked gold, from depths for ever calm,
To fashion for thy name a fretted shrine;
O for strange gems, still locked in virgin mine,
To stud the pyx, where thought would bring sweet psalm!
To fashion for thy name a fretted shrine;
O for strange gems, still locked in virgin mine,
To stud the pyx, where thought would bring sweet psalm!
I have but this small rosary of rhyme,—
No rubies but heart's drops, no pearls but tears,
To lay upon the altar of thy name,
No rubies but heart's drops, no pearls but tears,
To lay upon the altar of thy name,
O Mimma Bella;—on the shrine that Time
Makes ever holier for the soul, while years
Obliterate the roll of human fame.
Makes ever holier for the soul, while years
Obliterate the roll of human fame.
| Mimma Bella | |