The divan a LITTLE maid of Astrakan, An idol on a silk divan; She sits so still, and never speaks, She holds a cup of mine; ’T is full of wine, and on her cheeks Are stains and smears of wine. Thou little girl of Astrakan, I join thee on the silk divan: There is no need to seek the land, The rich bazaars where rubies shine; For mines are in that little hand, And on those little cheeks of thine. WINE AND DEW YOU may drink to your leman in gold, In a great golden goblet of wine; She ’s as ripe as the wine, and as bold As the glare of the gold: But this little lady of mine, I will not profane her in wine. I go where the garden so still is (The moon raining through), To pluck the white bowls of the lilies, And drink her in dew! THE JAR DAY and night my thoughts incline To the blandishments of wine: Jars were made to drain, I think, Wine, I know, was made to drink. When I die, (the day be far!) Should the potters make a jar Out of this poor clay of mine, Let the jar be filled with wine! THE FALCON I AM a white falcon, hurrah! My home is the mountains so high; But away o’er the lands and the waters, Wherever I please, I can fly. I wander from city to city, I dart from the wave to the cloud, And when I am dead I shall slumber With my own white wings for a shroud. ARAB SONG BREAK thou my heart, ah, break it, If such thy pleasure be; Thy will is mine, what say I? ’T is more than mine to me. And if my life offend thee, My passion and my pain, Take thou my life, ah, take it, But spare me thy disdain!
Oriental Songs
More from Poet
-
[April, 1861] men of the North and West, Wake in your might. Prepare, as the rebels have done, For the fight! You cannot shrink from the test; Rise! Men of the North and West! They have torn down your banner of stars; They have trampled the laws; They have stifled the freedom they...
-
Not what we would, but what we must, Makes up the sum of living; Heaven is both more and less than just In taking and in giving. Swords cleave to hands that sought the plough, And laurels miss the soldier’s brow. Me, whom the city holds, whose feet Have worn its stony highways, Familiar...
-
There are gains for all our losses, There are balms for all our pain, But when youth, the dream, departs, It takes something from our hearts, And it never comes again. We are stronger, and are better, Under manhood’s sterner reign; Still we feel that something sweet Followed youth, with...
-
The life of man Is an arrow’s flight, Out of darkness Into light, And out of light Into darkness again; Perhaps to pleasure, Perhaps to pain! There must be Something, Above, or below; Somewhere unseen A mighty Bow, A Hand that tires not, A sleepless Eye That sees the arrows Fly...
-
Last night, when my tired eyes were shut with sleep, I saw the one I love, and heard her speak,— Heard, in the listening watches of the night, The sweet words melting from her sweeter lips: But what she said, or seemed to say, to me I have forgotten, though, till morning broke, I kept repeating...