Cosmo De' Medici An Historical Tragedy: And Other Poems: By Richard Hengist Horne |
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 | Cosmo De' Medici |  |
III.
First came a troop of Dervishes,
Who sang a solemn song,
And at each chorus one leapt forth
And spun himself so long
That silver coins, and much applause,
Were shower'd down by the throng.
Who sang a solemn song,
And at each chorus one leapt forth
And spun himself so long
That silver coins, and much applause,
Were shower'd down by the throng.
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Then pass'd a long and sad-link'd chain
Of foreign Slaves for sale:
Some clasp'd their hands and wept like rain,
Some with resolve were pale;
By death or fortitude, they vow'd,
Deliverances should not fail.
Of foreign Slaves for sale:
Some clasp'd their hands and wept like rain,
Some with resolve were pale;
By death or fortitude, they vow'd,
Deliverances should not fail.
And neighing steeds with bloodshot eyes,
And tails as black as wind
That sweeps the storm-expectant seas,
Bare-back'd career'd behind;
Yet, docile to their master's call,
Their steep-arch'd necks inclined.
And tails as black as wind
That sweeps the storm-expectant seas,
Bare-back'd career'd behind;
Yet, docile to their master's call,
Their steep-arch'd necks inclined.
Trumpets and tympans sound
'Neath the moon's brilliant round,
Which doth entrance
Each passionate dance,
And glows or flashes
'Mid cymbal-clashes,
Rich jewell'd sashes,
Cap, turban, and tiàra,
In a tossing sea
Of ecstasy,
At the Fair of Almachàra!
'Neath the moon's brilliant round,
Which doth entrance
Each passionate dance,
And glows or flashes
'Mid cymbal-clashes,
Rich jewell'd sashes,
Cap, turban, and tiàra,
In a tossing sea
Of ecstasy,
At the Fair of Almachàra!
| Cosmo De' Medici | |