Classic Poem

Friend , greet at Silves many a pleasant spot
We knew, and if they recollect us not,
Say I remember them, though far away.
To Sharajib, my palace, thou shalt say
" Greeting! The young man who saluteth thee
Longs for thy joys and thy tranquillity. "
Ah me, what nights among the sculptured halls
I dallied, where between the selfsame walls
Mingled the lion and the lithe gazelle,
Damsel and warrior; and it was well.
Sweet nights, when maidens, fair and dusky-eyed,
With looks more sharp than javelins to the side
Between their lashes, pierced me all about, —
Great was the assault and sudden was the rout!
Sweet nights, sweet nights, beneath the consummate moon
To live, and love, and plead, and crave a boon
Of kisses by the dusky river-side
From one, a singing damsel, subtle-eyed.
Fair as the image of the moon was she
Upon the lake, and fired the blood of me
With lips and looks and wondrous wine. And last
She took the painted lute, and having passed
Deft fingers o'er the strings, she played an air,
A martial air; faster and yet more fast
Thundered my blood, and clash of arms was there,
War-cries and battle-music everywhere!
And then — O sweetest moment of the night! —
Casting the girdle and the robe aside,
She stood in living beauty to my sight,
All marvellous. — " Behold, the bud, " I cried,
" Hath broken and the flower is opened wide! "