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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409075" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>La Belle Juive</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is it because your sable hair <br>Is folded over brows that wear <br>At times a too imperial air;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or is it that the thoughts which rise <br>In those dark orbs do seek disguise <br>Beneath the lids of Eastern eyes;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That choose whatever pose or place <br>May chance to please, in you I trace <br>The noblest women of your race? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The crowd is sauntering at its ease, <br>And humming like a hive of bees- <br>You take your seat and touch the keys.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I do not hear the giddy throng; <br>The sea avenges Israel's wrong, <br>And on the wind floats Miriam's song!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You join me with a stately grace; <br>Music to Poesy gives place; <br>Some grand emotion lights your face.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At once I stand by Mizpeh's walls: <br>With smiles the martyred daughter falls, <br>And desolate are Mizpeh's halls!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Intrusive babblers come between; <br>With calm, pale brow and lofty mien, <br>You thread the circle like a queen! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then sweeps the royal Esther by; <br>The deep devotion in her eye <br>Is looking &quot;If I die, I die!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You stroll the garden's flowery walks; <br>The plants to me are grainless stalks, <br>And Ruth to old Naomi talks.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adopted child of Judah's creed, <br>Like Judah's daughters true at need, <br>I see you mid the alien seed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I watch afar the gleaner sweet; <br>I wake like Boaz in the wheat, <br>And find you lying at my feet!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My feet! Oh! if the spell that lures <br>My heart through all these dreams endures, <br>How soon shall I be stretched at yours!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Timrod">Henry Timrod</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409075" data-title="La Belle Juive de Henry Timrod" data-description="Is it because your sable hair 
Is folded over brows that wear 
At times a too imperial air;

Or is it that the thoughts which rise 
In those dark orbs do seek disguise 
Beneath the lids of Eastern eyes;

That choose whatever pose or place 
May cha..."></div>
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