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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=510021" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Young Greek Odalisque</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">’Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,<br>And fairer form the harem’s walls had ne’er before enshrined;<br>’Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,<br>With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she shone supremely fair. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">’Tis true that orbs as dark as hers in melting softness shone,<br>And lips whose coral hue might vie in brightness with her own;<br>And forms as light as ever might in Moslem’s heaven be found,<br>So full of beauty’s witching grace, were lightly hovering round. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet, oh, how paled their brilliant charms before that beauteous one<br>Who, ’mid their gay mirth, silent sat, from all apart—alone,<br>Outshining all, not by the spells of lovely face or form,<br>But by the soul that shone through all, her peerless, priceless charm. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, say, what were the visions sweet that filled that gentle heart?<br>Surely to Azof, her liege lord, was given the greatest part,—<br>To him who prized her smiles beyond the power his sceptre gave,<br>And, mighty sultan though he was, to her was as a slave. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, not of crowned heads thought she then, of hall or gilded dome,<br>But of fair Greece, that classic land, her loved, her early home.<br>She yearns to see again its skies, proud temples, woodland flowers,<br>Less bright, but dearer far, than those that bloom in harem bowers. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">She glanced upon the jewels rich that gemmed her shining hair,<br>And wreathed her sculptured, snowy arms, her neck and brow so fair.<br>Their lustre softened not the pangs that filled that lonely hour,<br>More happy was she when her braids were decked with simple flower. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, Azof, did not thought of him some passing joy impart;<br>Did not the memory of his love bring gladness to her heart?<br>Alas, that long and heavy sigh, the glitt’ring tear that fell<br>From ’neath her dark and drooping lids, told more than words could tell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Awhile she weeps, and then a change steals o’er her mournful dream,<br>Her gloomy thoughts are chased away, and all things brighter seem,<br>A timid and yet blissful smile lights up her beauteous brow,<br>Her soft cheek crimsons, but, oh’ not of Azof thinks she now. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Perchance of some gallant Greek she knew in life’s young hour,<br>Some childish love as guileless as her love for bird or flower,<br>But which, looked back on through the mist of absence or of time,<br>Seemed sad and sweet as are the words—of some old childish rhyme. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could he, her royal lover, now but look into her heart,<br>And read its depths, how sharp the pang that knowledge would impart,<br>But no, secure in certain bliss, he deems her all his own,<br>And prides himself that girlish heart loves him and him alone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sadness which might have awaked suspicion or mistrust,<br>Was of the spells she swayed him by, the dearest and the first,—<br>He deemed it but the token of a timid gentle heart,<br>That ever kept from needless show or noisy mirth apart. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He knew not that the voice which now sang but some mournful lay<br>Breathed once the soul of joyousness, was gayest of the gay,<br>That the soft laugh whose magic power his very heart strings stirred,<br>Though now so rare, in girlhood’s home had oftentimes been heard! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Th’ averted head, the timid look the half unwilling ear,<br>With which she met his vows of love, he deemed but girlish fear,<br>Nor ever dreamed that she whom all considered as thrice blessed,<br>Whose life was like a summer day loved, honored and caressed; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who held, a captive to her charms, a most accomplished knight<br>And monarch brave that ever yet had bowed to woman’s might<br>Was but a poor and joyless slave, compelled to wear a smile<br>And act a part for which she loathed her wretched self the while. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, like some fair exotic brought unto a foreign strand,<br>She lost her bloom and pined to see once more her native land,<br>And only when from earthly scenes death summoned her to part<br>A blissful smile played round her lips, and peace was in her heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rosanna+Eleanor+Leprohon">Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon</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=510021" data-title="The Young Greek Odalisque de Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon" data-description="’Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,
And fairer form the harem’s walls had ne’er before enshrined;
’Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,
With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she ..."></div>
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