In My Lady's Praise Being Poems, Old and New: Written to the Honour of Fanny, Lady Arnold and Now Collected for her Memory: By Sir Edwin Arnold |
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26
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[Nacre, and Pearls of Ormuz, now I fetch]
Nacre, and Pearls of Ormuz, now I fetch
From the bright stores of Love's enchanted Palace:
Know you, perchance, how that poor formless wretch—
The Oyster—gems his shallow moonlit chalice?
From the bright stores of Love's enchanted Palace:
Know you, perchance, how that poor formless wretch—
The Oyster—gems his shallow moonlit chalice?
Where the shell irks him, or the sea-sand frets,
There, from some subtle organ, he doth shed
This lovely lustre on his grief, and gets
Peace, and the world his labour, being dead.
There, from some subtle organ, he doth shed
This lovely lustre on his grief, and gets
Peace, and the world his labour, being dead.
Ah, patient foolish fish of the Orient seas!
What else do we, the Poets, serfs of men,
But pour our souls out in soft verse, to ease
Our aches, and die; and people make us then
What else do we, the Poets, serfs of men,
But pour our souls out in soft verse, to ease
Our aches, and die; and people make us then
Wealth, whence they draw musical ornament
For lovers' use, and sweet wise things to say;
And wonder if the Lady did relent,
Or keep the pearls, and throw the life away.
For lovers' use, and sweet wise things to say;
And wonder if the Lady did relent,
Or keep the pearls, and throw the life away.
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For here be pearls, too; pearls of lucent ray
For some one strung to mark her where she goes
A Pearl of women; and when others say
“Oh, you glad Lady! who did give you those:—
For some one strung to mark her where she goes
A Pearl of women; and when others say
“Oh, you glad Lady! who did give you those:—
Pearls of white thought, pearls of a lasting love?”
Then will you finger them on your fair throat,
And answer: “These came deeper than from grove
Of sea-trees, green beneath the diver's boat!
Then will you finger them on your fair throat,
And answer: “These came deeper than from grove
Of sea-trees, green beneath the diver's boat!
Full many a fathom down I hanselled them
In heart of him who did not grudge, indeed;
He would have melted Cleopatra's gem
In wine of verse, if I had said ‘I need
In heart of him who did not grudge, indeed;
He would have melted Cleopatra's gem
In wine of verse, if I had said ‘I need
New splendours for my necklet?’ On one day
I did not know he lived; and that day's morrow
I knew he loved me well; and thence—alway—
I am his peace and pain, his crown and sorrow!”
I did not know he lived; and that day's morrow
I knew he loved me well; and thence—alway—
I am his peace and pain, his crown and sorrow!”
“Ah,” they will cry, “for such strong faith, Pardie!
We, now, had shown great favour; pearls are much!”
But thou, wear, and speak nought!—I give them thee
Free of all price, and a king's hoard of such.
We, now, had shown great favour; pearls are much!”
But thou, wear, and speak nought!—I give them thee
Free of all price, and a king's hoard of such.
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There was a King promised his beauteous Queen
A virgin necklace of pure matchless pearls
Which ne'er before had worn or threaded been,
Milk-white from where the Arab fisher furls
A virgin necklace of pure matchless pearls
Which ne'er before had worn or threaded been,
Milk-white from where the Arab fisher furls
His sails of mat; and stoops and plunges in,
And sees the light fade farther from his eyes,
And hears the dreadful, weltering, waters' din;
Yet dares the agony, and grasps the prize;—
And sees the light fade farther from his eyes,
And hears the dreadful, weltering, waters' din;
Yet dares the agony, and grasps the prize;—
Sinking a slave, with hardly means to feed;
Returning, gift-giver to Queens and Kings,—
The brine choking his lips, the bladdered weed
Tangling his feet, but those pale precious things
Returning, gift-giver to Queens and Kings,—
The brine choking his lips, the bladdered weed
Tangling his feet, but those pale precious things
Safe in his loin cloth! And, perchance, one day
He watched the high Sultana pass in state;
The necklace warm between her breasts, her way
Lined by a worshipping crowd, her sceptred mate
He watched the high Sultana pass in state;
The necklace warm between her breasts, her way
Lined by a worshipping crowd, her sceptred mate
Proud of that pearlëd Consort. And his heart
Would laugh within him saying, “Lord of lands!
In what thou lovest I, too, claim a part!
She is so fair because these toilsome hands
Would laugh within him saying, “Lord of lands!
In what thou lovest I, too, claim a part!
She is so fair because these toilsome hands
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Tore from the waves their wealth. Yea, Pearl of pearls
Lulu-'l-maknûn! than Houris lovelier,
That hast the black eyes of the Prophet's Girls
Promised in Paradise, and mouth of myrrh:
Lulu-'l-maknûn! than Houris lovelier,
That hast the black eyes of the Prophet's Girls
Promised in Paradise, and mouth of myrrh:
In next life after this whose wilt thou be,
His that gave gold for thee, or mine, who went
Across the shark's jaws to the nether sea,
Nigh dead for breath, that thou might'st pace content?”
His that gave gold for thee, or mine, who went
Across the shark's jaws to the nether sea,
Nigh dead for breath, that thou might'st pace content?”
So, Queen of mine! I am that Eastern King!
These pearls were never strung which I send thee;
I ransacked unknown gulfs for them, I bring
New moonlight wonders from an unsailed sea.
These pearls were never strung which I send thee;
I ransacked unknown gulfs for them, I bring
New moonlight wonders from an unsailed sea.
Nay, and my Pearl! I am that Arab Diver!
I stooped and plunged for you into the wave,
Returning rich—yet richer, when forever,
The treasure of the upper air I have;
I stooped and plunged for you into the wave,
Returning rich—yet richer, when forever,
The treasure of the upper air I have;
If not!—Ah, life's light quenched, and life's faith broken!
How fares it with pearl-fisher dead and foiled?
Lost!—tossing on the billows for a token
Of his large hope, he drifts where he had toiled;
How fares it with pearl-fisher dead and foiled?
Lost!—tossing on the billows for a token
Of his large hope, he drifts where he had toiled;
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And sea-birds—which are like sharp thoughts—consume him;
And hideous fish—fierce as love-longings—tear
The heart that beat so bold; and storm-clouds gloom him
Out from the sight of Heaven. Pity him, Dear!
And hideous fish—fierce as love-longings—tear
The heart that beat so bold; and storm-clouds gloom him
Out from the sight of Heaven. Pity him, Dear!
| In My Lady's Praise | |