As i came down from Lebanon, Came winding, wandering slowly down Through mountain passes bleak and brown, The cloudless day was well-nigh done. The city, like an opal set In emerald, showed each minaret Afire with radiant beams of sun, And glistened orange, fig, and lime, Where song-birds made melodious chime, As I came down from Lebanon. As I came down from Lebanon, Like lava in the dying glow, Through olive orchards far below I saw the murmuring river run; And ’neath the wall upon the sand Swart sheiks from distant Samarcand, With precious spices they had won, Lay long and languidly in wait Till they might pass the guarded gate, As I came down from Lebanon. As I came down from Lebanon, I saw strange men from lands afar, In mosque and square and gay bazar, The Magi that the Moslem shun, And Grave Effendi from Stamboul, Who sherbet sipped in corners cool; And, from the balconies o’errun With roses, gleamed the eyes of those Who dwell in still seraglios, As I came down from Lebanon, As I came down from Lebanon The flaming flower of daytime died, And Night, arrayed as is a bride Of some great king, in garments spun Of purple and the finest gold, Outbloomed in glories manifold, Until the moon, above the dun And darkening desert, void of shade, Shone like a keen Damascus blade, As I came down from Lebanon.
As I Came Down from Lebanon
More from Poet
-
It stands in a winding street, A quiet and restful nook, Apart from the endless beat Of the noisy heart of Trade; There ’s never a spot more cool Of a hot midsummer day By the brink of a forest pool, Or the bank of a crystal brook In the maples’ breezy shade, Than the book-stall...
-
Had i the power To cast a bell that should from some grand tower, At the first Christmas hour, Outring, And fling A jubilant message wide, The forgëd metals should be thus allied:— No iron Pride, But soft Humility, and rich-veined Hope Cleft from a sunny slope; And there should be White Charity...
-
Be ye in love with April-tide? I’ faith, in love am I! For now ’t is sun, and now ’t is shower, And now ’t is frost, and now ’t is flower, And now ’t is Laura laughing-eyed, And now ’t is Laura shy. Ye doubtful days, O slower glide! Still smile and frown, O sky! Some beauty...
-
Why dost thou hail with songful lips no more The glorious sunrise?—Why is Memnon mute, Whose voice was tuned as is the silvery flute When Thebes sat queenly by the Nile’s low shore? The chained slaves sweat no longer at the oar, No longer shrines are raised to man and brute, Yet dawn by dawn the...
-
Oh, the wind from the desert blew in!— Khamsin, The wind from the desert blew in! It blew from the heart of the fiery south, From the fervid sand and the hills of drouth, And it kissed the land with its scorching mouth; The wind from the desert blew in! It blasted the buds on the...