 | Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems |  |
209
PÉRIGUEUX.
To H. T.
The little southern city, full of light,
Full of warm light, and coloured like a peach;
The river winnowing either chalky beach
With eddying streams from some vine-haunted height;
Those pillar'd windows hung with kerchiefs bright,
That rosy bell-tower with its mellow speech
In liquid bells that murmured each to each,
Those fleecy, full acacias, robed in white!
Ah! most those warm acacias! like a tune
Their odour fell and rose and died away
All through that noiseless dreamy afternoon;
Beside the quay you sat and sketched; I lay
To watch the trembling breezes lift and sway
The boughs through which there climbed a shadowy moon.
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