Poems | ||
140
AN ANCIENT CITY.
An ancient city I beheld:
Oh, call it not a dream of eld—
It was when Time was young,
And bluer o'er the infant Earth
Heaven hung!
The sadness was in me—the mirth
In thee had unprophetic birth
And unpolluted sprung,
For thou wert young, young!
Oh, call it not a dream of eld—
It was when Time was young,
And bluer o'er the infant Earth
Heaven hung!
The sadness was in me—the mirth
In thee had unprophetic birth
And unpolluted sprung,
For thou wert young, young!
Matrons of large voluptuous glance
And virgins nodding in the dance
In a continuous stream—
Virgins in their own tresses veil'd;
And the gleam
Of golden cymbals high upheld
By snowy arms that swung and swell'd
Like lilies in a stream
When winds disturb their dream.
And virgins nodding in the dance
In a continuous stream—
Virgins in their own tresses veil'd;
And the gleam
Of golden cymbals high upheld
By snowy arms that swung and swell'd
Like lilies in a stream
When winds disturb their dream.
141
In vain the antique music play'd,
In vain the cymbals flash'd and sway'd,
In vain on stop and string
The taper fingers rose and fell!
Who could bring
Music from a tongueless bell?
And yet of music did they tell
By motion and by swing;—
Voiceless, thou did sing!
In vain the cymbals flash'd and sway'd,
In vain on stop and string
The taper fingers rose and fell!
Who could bring
Music from a tongueless bell?
And yet of music did they tell
By motion and by swing;—
Voiceless, thou did sing!
But if of sinful joy the sound
A holy silence lapp'd it round:
To me it seemed a time
With the large liberty endow'd
Of the prime,
When larger pleasures were allow'd
And nobler sacrifices vow'd;
But thou wert grown sublime
In loveliness and crime!
A holy silence lapp'd it round:
To me it seemed a time
With the large liberty endow'd
Of the prime,
When larger pleasures were allow'd
And nobler sacrifices vow'd;
But thou wert grown sublime
In loveliness and crime!
Thou like a sacrifice wert led,
With fatal finery garlanded,
To thy eternal woe!
Thy beauty was a curse; sublime
On thy brow
Glitter'd the leprosy of crime,
The boasted glory of thy prime,
And now thou liest low
In the Dead Sea flow!
With fatal finery garlanded,
To thy eternal woe!
142
On thy brow
Glitter'd the leprosy of crime,
The boasted glory of thy prime,
And now thou liest low
In the Dead Sea flow!
Poems | ||