Classic Poem

1.

O Leave Berlin: the thick and dreary sand,
Weak tea, and over-witty folk who show
How well the world, themselves, and God they know,
And with Hegelian insight understand!
O fly with me to India's sunny land,
Where sandal-buds afar their perfume throw,
And, festal-robed, toward the Ganges go
White pilgrim hordes, in many a prayerful band! —

Where waves the palm by water smiling sweet,
Where yearns the lotus by the sacred shore
To Indra's citadel, the eternal blue.
There will I fall devoutly at your feet,
And, pressing them, will cry while I adore,
" Lady, of women all, the fairest, you! "

2.

The Ganges roars; from the green shadows stare
The bright-eyed antelopes, that lightly fling
And gallop past; the strutting peacocks swing
And flaunt the jewelled feathers that they wear.
Flowers you never saw are blooming there:
Deep from the heart of sunny meads they spring;
With voice love-drunken doth Cocila sing,
" Beyond all other women you are fair! "

God Cama peeps and smiles from out your face,
His home is in your bosom's tent of white,
He breathes from you, in songs of sweetness welling.
Vassant upon your dewy lips I trace;
Within your eyes I find new worlds of light —
Too narrow now the old world for my dwelling.

3.

The Ganges roars tumultuous and hoarse;
Their vesper-gold the Himalayas wear;
From the dark banyan groves, with sudden blare,
The trampling elephants a pathway force —
Oh, for an image! I would give my horse
To find some image for your beauty rare,
Who are incomparably pure and fair,
And of my heart's delight the radiant source!

You see me seek for images in vain,
And watch me strive with passion and with rhyme, —
And only smile to see me so undone!
But smile! For, when you smile, Gandarvas fain
Reach for their citherns sweet, and sing and chime,
High in the golden chambers of the sun.