Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
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A Dream of the East.
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 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
98
A Dream of the East.
I often dream I'm sitting, when the daylight is fast flitting,
In a lattice-windowed chamber looking out upon a court;
And in that Eastern room there is rising through the gloom
A little bubbling fountain, that dances in its sport.
In a lattice-windowed chamber looking out upon a court;
And in that Eastern room there is rising through the gloom
A little bubbling fountain, that dances in its sport.
That stately Orient chamber is walled with golden amber,
And at my back the cushions are striped with purple silk;
My turban is of green, and my shoes are red, I ween,
And my kaftan, like my mantle, is as white as camel's milk.
And at my back the cushions are striped with purple silk;
My turban is of green, and my shoes are red, I ween,
And my kaftan, like my mantle, is as white as camel's milk.
There, resting after labour, beside me is my sabre—
A crescent of keen steel, with a hilt of precious stone;
And I hear the Nubians' laughter, and the joke it follows after,
As I doze in state and listen while I day-dream all alone.
A crescent of keen steel, with a hilt of precious stone;
And I hear the Nubians' laughter, and the joke it follows after,
As I doze in state and listen while I day-dream all alone.
And the spacious room is filled with a vapour that's distilled
From a silver perfume vessel that is standing near the door;
And I see the citron's blossom, as the light winds kiss and toss them,
And I hear the distant murmur like the waves upon the shore.
From a silver perfume vessel that is standing near the door;
And I see the citron's blossom, as the light winds kiss and toss them,
And I hear the distant murmur like the waves upon the shore.
That's my children and their mothers, and many dozen others,
In the bath-room and the garden, the seraglio and kiosk;
And while the day is closing, and I am here reposing,
The Moolahs are now lighting the lamps in yonder mosque.
In the bath-room and the garden, the seraglio and kiosk;
And while the day is closing, and I am here reposing,
The Moolahs are now lighting the lamps in yonder mosque.
The water-clock is chiming, with a measured silvery timing,
And a dripping, tinkling, dimpling, very pleasant to the ear;
And the violet sherbét in a silver bowl is set
On a little stool of ivory that is stationed very near.
And a dripping, tinkling, dimpling, very pleasant to the ear;
And the violet sherbét in a silver bowl is set
On a little stool of ivory that is stationed very near.
Now, to-night I am in clover, for the toils of state are over,—
No courier's come, and Samarcand may sleep or may rebel;
All Persia is at rest, and the rising in the West
I can strangle when I wish, with one strong grip of my hand.
No courier's come, and Samarcand may sleep or may rebel;
All Persia is at rest, and the rising in the West
I can strangle when I wish, with one strong grip of my hand.
But as even Sultan's leisure ceases sometimes to be pleasure,
I arise, and calm and gravely clap three times my royal hands;
And quickly Dinerzade and the fair Schehezerade
Come and seat themselves beside me, and obey my high commands.
I arise, and calm and gravely clap three times my royal hands;
And quickly Dinerzade and the fair Schehezerade
Come and seat themselves beside me, and obey my high commands.
99
O'er my visions I see looming, through the pale blue smoke-wreaths glooming,
Curling from the fiery apex of a fragrant old cigar,
Calenders and stern magicians, brown and bearded old physicians,
Kings half marble, ladies fairer than the opening balsam far.
Curling from the fiery apex of a fragrant old cigar,
Calenders and stern magicians, brown and bearded old physicians,
Kings half marble, ladies fairer than the opening balsam far.
Now Aladdin, cold and trembling, as, so wily and dissembling,
On the fire the swarth magician sprinkles incense and perfume;
Till the desert valley shakes, and the earth beneath them quakes,
And he sees the trees of jewels and the subterranean gloom.
On the fire the swarth magician sprinkles incense and perfume;
Till the desert valley shakes, and the earth beneath them quakes,
And he sees the trees of jewels and the subterranean gloom.
Next I see him pale and pining, in his eagerness for dining,
Rubbing the old lamp so battered, with a handful of rough sand;
When, to rouse his fear and wonder, come the genii amid thunder,
Bearing silver cups and vessels to their master's royal hand.
Rubbing the old lamp so battered, with a handful of rough sand;
When, to rouse his fear and wonder, come the genii amid thunder,
Bearing silver cups and vessels to their master's royal hand.
Then at dawn I watch him staring, open mouth, and fixed eyes, glaring
At the palace that the Afrits built for him of molten gold,
At the precious stones that flame round the windows' diamond frame,
And the hangings of rich damask looped up, costly fold on fold.
At the palace that the Afrits built for him of molten gold,
At the precious stones that flame round the windows' diamond frame,
And the hangings of rich damask looped up, costly fold on fold.
Presently the story changes, and anon my fancy ranges:
Ali Baba's slily watching, snugly nestled in a tree,
When the Forty Thieves appearing, ride by, on their steeds careering;
And the cavern portal widens to the “Open, sesame!”
Ali Baba's slily watching, snugly nestled in a tree,
When the Forty Thieves appearing, ride by, on their steeds careering;
And the cavern portal widens to the “Open, sesame!”
Then comes artful Cogia Hassan, that detestable assassin,
Marking doors with chalk, and spying, watching early, watching late,
Till the Forty robbers, hid underneath the oil-jar lid,
Are stifled, drowned, or stabbed—a well-deservéd fate.
Marking doors with chalk, and spying, watching early, watching late,
Till the Forty robbers, hid underneath the oil-jar lid,
Are stifled, drowned, or stabbed—a well-deservéd fate.
Then the little hunchback's gambling, which soon sets the tailor ambling,
Till the cruel, choking fish-bone stops the revel and the dance;
Then the tumult and the fear, in the city far and near,
Till the barber wakes him quickly, from his deep, alarming trance.
Till the cruel, choking fish-bone stops the revel and the dance;
Then the tumult and the fear, in the city far and near,
Till the barber wakes him quickly, from his deep, alarming trance.
Or in Cashmere I am walking, with a Persian dervish talking,
When the magic horse is carried out into the palace square,
And the negro, grim and black, leaps upon the charger's back,
And with a hoarse mocking “farewell,” flies aloft into the air.
When the magic horse is carried out into the palace square,
And the negro, grim and black, leaps upon the charger's back,
And with a hoarse mocking “farewell,” flies aloft into the air.
Very soon he is beheaded, and, through storm-cloud safely threaded,
Comes the hero with his princess hurrying joyful home again;
And a merry clash of cymbals, and a vibrating of timbrels,
Ends with joy and noisy welcome all the bitter hours of pain.
Comes the hero with his princess hurrying joyful home again;
And a merry clash of cymbals, and a vibrating of timbrels,
Ends with joy and noisy welcome all the bitter hours of pain.
100
Then is crafty Sindbad flying, on the roc's back safely lying,
Till, the Diamond Valley reaching, he unties the knotted band;
Gropes about, the gems collecting, not a moment recollecting
That he's in a magic circle, girt with snakes on every hand.
Till, the Diamond Valley reaching, he unties the knotted band;
Gropes about, the gems collecting, not a moment recollecting
That he's in a magic circle, girt with snakes on every hand.
Then the fisherman I'm eyeing, who his eager casts is trying,
Till he draws the copper vessel, sealed with lead, unto the shore,
And from it now there is arising a mighty form of size surprising,
Which by Solomon was prisoned twice twelve hundred years or more.
Till he draws the copper vessel, sealed with lead, unto the shore,
And from it now there is arising a mighty form of size surprising,
Which by Solomon was prisoned twice twelve hundred years or more.
But cigars burn soon to ashes, and I ring a bell that dashes
All my visions and dream-castles into air, from whence they came;
Then comes in the urn hot steaming, that ends all my pleasant dreaming,
And as I pound the sleeping coals, up starts the wakening flame.
All my visions and dream-castles into air, from whence they came;
Then comes in the urn hot steaming, that ends all my pleasant dreaming,
And as I pound the sleeping coals, up starts the wakening flame.
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |