 | Poems of home and travel |  |
91
THE ODALISQUE.
In marble shells the fountain splashes;
Its falling spray is turned to stars,
When some light wind its pinion dashes
Against thy gilded lattice-bars.
Around the shafts, in breathing cluster,
The roses of Damascus run,
And through the summer's moons of lustre
The tulip's goblet drinks the sun.
Its falling spray is turned to stars,
When some light wind its pinion dashes
Against thy gilded lattice-bars.
Around the shafts, in breathing cluster,
The roses of Damascus run,
And through the summer's moons of lustre
The tulip's goblet drinks the sun.
The day, through shadowy arches fainting,
Reveals the garden's burst of bloom,
With lights of shifting iris painting
The jasper pavement of thy room:
Enroofed with palm and laurel bowers,
Thou seest, beyond, the cool kiosk,
And far away the pencilled towers
That shoot from many a stately mosque.
Reveals the garden's burst of bloom,
With lights of shifting iris painting
The jasper pavement of thy room:
Enroofed with palm and laurel bowers,
Thou seest, beyond, the cool kiosk,
And far away the pencilled towers
That shoot from many a stately mosque.
92
Thou hast no world beyond the chamber
Whose inlaid marbles mock the flowers,
Where burns thy lord's chibouk of amber,
To charm the languid evening hours,
Where sounds the lute's impassioned yearning
Through all enchanted tales of old,
And spicy cressets, dimly burning,
Swing on their chains of Persian gold.
Whose inlaid marbles mock the flowers,
Where burns thy lord's chibouk of amber,
To charm the languid evening hours,
Where sounds the lute's impassioned yearning
Through all enchanted tales of old,
And spicy cressets, dimly burning,
Swing on their chains of Persian gold.
No more, in half-remembered vision,
Thy distant childhood comes to view;
That star-like world of shapes Elysian
Has faded from thy morning's blue:
The eastern winds that cross the Taurus
Have now no voice of home beyond,
Where light waves foam in endless chorus
Against the walls of Trebizond.
Thy distant childhood comes to view;
That star-like world of shapes Elysian
Has faded from thy morning's blue:
The eastern winds that cross the Taurus
Have now no voice of home beyond,
Where light waves foam in endless chorus
Against the walls of Trebizond.
For thee the Past may never reckon
Its hoard of saddening memories o'er,
Nor shapes from out the Future beckon
To joys that only live in store.
Thy life is in the gorgeous Present,
An Orient summer, warm and bright;
No gleam of beauty evanescent,
But one long time of deep delight.
Its hoard of saddening memories o'er,
Nor shapes from out the Future beckon
To joys that only live in store.
Thy life is in the gorgeous Present,
An Orient summer, warm and bright;
No gleam of beauty evanescent,
But one long time of deep delight.
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