 | Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems |  |
213
BONDSERVICE OF THE HEART.
When by the fire we sit with hand in hand,My spirit seems to watch beside your knee,
Alert and eager at your least command
To do your bidding over earth and sea;
You sigh—and of that dubious message fain,
I scour the world to bring you what you lack,
Till, from some island of the spicy main,
The pressure of your fingers calls me back:
You smile,—and I, who love to be your slave,
Post round the orb at your fantastic will,
Though, while my fancy skims the laughing wave,
My hand lies happy in your hand, and still;
Nor more from fortune or from life would crave
Than that dear silent service to fulfil.
| Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems | |