The Mermaid
Awaken from my trance-like sleep,
On the island’s sea-shore, steep;
I saw amidst the sea-waves high,
A glorious scene that made me sigh!
Out of the froth and watery foam,
Arose a figure- feminine form;
Her beauty was beyond compare;
Her eyes threw a seductive stare,
That pierced my heart, yearning for love,
Asking my hand to be hers, now.
Her hair was decked by gorgeous flowers;
That’s seen on damsels’ heads in bowers;
She wore an aureolar sheen;
By myriad butterflies hovered,
Her beauteous breasts lay half-covered-
A heav’nly scene, ne’er had I seen!
Her fragrance was so exotic;
Her complexion was fairy-like;
Her lips didn’t move but she did speak
Enticing words, in tone so meek-
‘Oh, will you marry me for life,
And take this mermaid as your wife?
I’ll take you down the sea below,
Where years will pass, just making love.’
‘You will not know what sadness is;
You will experience only bliss;
But you can’t leave the watery world,
However young or even old! ’
‘Come on, young man; Come hold my arms;
Embrace your love and know its charms! ’
Enchanted by her gestures made
Entwined I left and both did fade!
(11-07-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Young Dreams
(words & music by kalmanoff - schroeder)
(young dreams of love, young dreams of love)
Young dreams (young dreams, young dreams)
My heart is filled with young dreams (dreams)
And Im longing to
Share them all with you
In my eyes, (my eyes, my eyes)
Oh cant you see in my eyes (in eyes)
That youre the only one who
Can make my young dreams come true
I have young arms
That wanna hold you (hold you)
Hold you oh so tight
I have young lips (lips)
That want to kiss you (kiss you)
Kiss you morning noon and night
Take my hand (my hand my hand)
Oh darling take my hand (take hand)
And let me make you a part
Of all my young dreams of love
I have young arms
That wanna hold you (hold you)
Hold you oh so tight
I have young lips (lips)
That want to kiss you (kiss you)
Kiss you morning noon and night
Take my hand (my hand my hand)
Oh darling take my hand (take hand)
And let me make you a part
Of all my young dreams of love
A part of all of my young dreams of love
(young dreams of love, young dreams of love)
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Leave-Taking
A Leave-Taking
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing?time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as we all love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.
Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying, `If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.
Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.
Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon?flower making all the foam?flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.
Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Made Your Lips
God made your lips for me to kiss. Your hands for me to hold.
God made your smile for me to miss and treasure more than gold.
God made your ears so I could tell how beautiful you are.
God made your eyes to cast a spell, no matter, near or far.
God made your arms to hold me tight each time before I leave.
God made your legs to stir delight like Adam saw in Eve.
God made your doubts to fade away, for years have come and gone.
God made your joys thank Him each day our love goes on and on.
God made your heart a lot like mine - hold fast to what God says.
God made you my sweet Valentine, you're always in my prayers.
God made your mind, your memories, your dreams and all you're worth.
God made you precious so you'd please the luckiest man on Earth!
God made your blessings one by one and when I look at you,
I wonder what great thing I've done that you should love me, too.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty or Truth
How shall I love you
................in beauty or in truth?
Your beauty is plain to see,
Not something you can hide.
Your truth must you freely give me.
So deeply within you it abides.
I prefer to touch your beauty,
There in your eyes where it glows.
I cannot feel the truth
That in you somewhere grows.
I cannot taste the truth,
Sweet words in your mouth,
From deeper thoughts where it lies,
But your lips are tasty buds of everything alive.
I cannot smell the truth
................of your firmament,
But the perfume of your beauty
.................is the fragrance I long to sense.
I will love you in your beauty
.................embrace your breasts and womanness
And I will love you in your truth
.................nestled in your inner essence
I cannot desire the one and not the other.
I’m compelled to feel the beauty of your charms
And in your arms embrace the treasure of who you are
....................— even if it takes an eternity.
poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet I
Life's summer flown, the wint'ry tempest rude,
Began to lower on the declining year;
When smiles celestial gilt the prospect drear,
Dispell'd the gloom, and joyful spring renew'd:
Fresh flowers beneath her fairy feet were strew'd;
Again soft accents woo'd the enchanted ear;
In her bright form, as in a mirrour clear,
Reflected, each gay scene of life view'd.
Young in her youth, and graceful in her grace,
In her's, I lived o'er every joy again;
Lived o'er the charms that beam'd upon her face,
Where Hope and Love revived their smiling train.
Night o'er the scene her blackest veil has spread;
And Death's pale hand a tenfold horrour shed.
poem by Brooke Boothby
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Til' The Last Drop
My pen has only a little ink before it is dry, but my heart still has many more words to say. So I will write until my heart has no more words to say or ’til the last drop.
My dear sweet love;
It has been several years since my eyes have had the pleasure of seeing your beautiful face, or my arms the pleasure of feeling your warm embrace.
But I’d like you to know ‘til the last tear dropp falls
from my eyes, in my heart your love will lie.
‘Til the last dropp of love leaves my heart, you and I will never part.
‘Til the last dropp of compassion is drained from my soul, in my arms you I will forever hold.
It has been several years since you been out my life, and even through you’re in heaven you’re still my wife.
Well, my love the words are starting to fade, but not because my heart has no more to say, but my pen is going dry.
But before the last dropp I’d like you to know I will love you ‘til the day I die.
Let Us Go
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.
Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying 'If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.
Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.
Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.
Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leave-Taking
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.
Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying 'If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.
Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.
Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.
Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Land versus the Sea
To the man on the shore, the sea
With its vast expanse, appears lovely;
With sparkling waves of immense beauty,
That calms the mind of its devotee!
The incessant roar of sea-waves is awesome,
And drowns the ears which welcome;
Time seems to have come to a halt
To those who sit by the water with salt.
The foam and froth and spray fill the air-
A treat to the eyes which watch and stare;
The sand under the feet too slips and goes
Back to the sea, its home, of course!
The sea is home to creatures lot;
Its breeze is so cool to skins that are hot;
The lives of fishermen on it depend;
A watery grave to some, it may just end.
Who can deny the sea doesn’t bring mirth
To mankind, right from its very birth?
Oh, once it spanned the whole surface of the earth,
Receding just before the first man got his first breath.
But to the man in a ship caught in a storm,
The land holds hope and appears calm-
A haven to those who desire less harm,
That keeps sailors off deep seas, warm.
The sea is hope to fishermen, may be;
The land is hope to men amidst a stormy sea;
With joy and sadness in both surely,
They live in threatened amity!
And yet, at other times, the sea
Is a scene of great tranquility;
Twirling its waves high, infinitely;
And tossing them onshore in spontaneity.
Oh, what shall we call it- necessity,
Enmity or Nature’s harmony;
Or the land’s immeasureable agony,
That’s an endless pity?
Or is it a show of love and of hate,
From time immemorial that won’t abate?
And yet, the sea takes the upper hand,
Gnawing the coastline of the land-
That changes so very often,
Sometimes, becoming misshapen.
What’s the sea without the land?
What’s a shore without its sand?
A struggle for existence:
A land in hapless defense?
There is hope and joy in both;
There are dangers lurking stealth;
Yet, both obey the Maker’s word,
That remains to mankind, always unheard!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-14-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Was Made To Love Her
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
I was born in little rock
Had a childhood sweetheart
We were always hand in han-an-an-an-and
I wore high-top shoes and shirt-tails
Suzy was in pigtails
I knew I loved her even then
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
Dont you know my papa disproved
My mama hooo-ooo-hoooed it
But I told them time and time again
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
Dont you know I was made to love her
Built my world all around her
Hey hey hey
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
Shes been my inspiration
Showed appreciation
For the love I gave her through the years
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
Like a sweet magnolia tree
My love blossomed tenderly
My life grows sweeter through the years
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
I know that my baby loves me
My baby needs me
Thats why we made it through the years
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
I was made to love her
What has she ever done
Hey hey hey
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
My little baby loves me
My baby needs me
And I know I aint goin nowhere
I was knee-high to a chimp
And the love bug bit me
And I have to be with her a thousand years
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
If the mountain tumbles
If this whole world crumbles
I know Ill still be standing there
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
cause I was made to love her
I was made to live for her
Hey hey hey
(hey hey yes I was made to love her)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At This Hour, It Is The Deep Of The Night
at this hour, it is the deep of the night
calm,
silent,
there is no wind blowing, i can hear the typing
of words
in this keyboard, this personal computer, writing,
because i cannot sleep, after we made love, because i am still
thinking what to do with my life,
what is the next move,
after love,
when there is no hate, because i have stopped feeling altogether
all those years,
and the years shall come slowly like some growing children
in your eyes, not seeing how the cells add to become their innocent eyes,
i am here again at midnight, then dawn,
2: 11 a.m.
that is the time here in this room
on this island
on this nook of the big, wide world,
time had made some divisions for all of us
for you it is morning, and for her it is noon,
but we are here writing at this moment for all different reasons,
some claim happiness and bliss and love and nature and hope,
i still claim my main reasons,
doubt, this sadness that has known how it is to write and be not able
to get a sound sleep, this lostness in space trying to find
where is everything
from nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mermaid In The Night
Mermaid in the night
By: roger guth, jay oliver
1989
I went out fishin on a sandy beach
Cast my line out as far as it would reach
Lookin for somethin for the fryin pan
I kick back with a beer in my hand
I mustve got a big one cause its bendin my pole
Im havin to fight just to keep control
It could be a whale God only knows
Whatever it is its not wearin any clothes
Chorus:
Shes larger than life
Made from holy water
Shes covered in green and got
Little scales upon her
Shes larger than life
Shea a mermaid in the night
Shes got a set of gills like no fish Ive ever seen
Long blond hair and a tail in between
Im in love with a creature from the sea
She brings out the crustacean in me
Her voice is a temptation its a siren song
When we kiss there can be no wrong
I ask her to marry me and be my wife
Do the backstroke the rest of our lives
Chorus:
Shes larger than life
Made from holy water
Shes covered in green
Shes got little scales upon her
Shes larger than life
Shes a mermaid in the night
Shes larger than life
Made from holy water
Shes covered in green and got
Little scales upon her
Shes larger than life
Shes a mermaid in the night
Mermaid in the night
Little mermaid in the night
-- spoken:
I think Ill have the catch of the day
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kiama
Towards the hills of Jamberoo
Some few fantastic shadows haste,
Uplit with fires
Like castle spires
Outshining through a mirage waste.
Behold, a mournful glory sits
On feathered ferns and woven brakes,
Where sobbing wild like restless child
The gusty breeze of evening wakes!
Methinks I hear on every breath
A lofty tone go passing by,
That whispers -- "Weave,
Though wood winds grieve,
The fadeless blooms of Poesy!"
A spirit hand has been abroad --
An evil hand to pluck the flowers --
A world of wealth,
And blooming health
Has gone from fragrant seaside bowers.
The twilight waxeth dim and dark,
The sad waves mutter sounds of woe,
But the evergreen retains its sheen,
And happy hearts exist below;
But pleasure sparkles on the sward,
And voices utter words of bliss,
And while my bride
Sits by my side,
Oh, where's the scene surpassing this?
Kiama slumbers, robed with mist,
All glittering in the dewy light
That, brooding o'er
The shingly shore,
Lies resting in the arms of Night;
And foam-flecked crags with surges chill,
And rocks embraced of cold-lipped spray,
Are moaning loud where billows crowd
In angry numbers up the bay.
The holy stars come looking down
On windy heights and swarthy strand,
And Life and Love --
The cliffs above --
Are sitting fondly hand in hand.
I hear a music inwardly,
That floods my soul with thoughts of joy;
Within my heart
Emotions start
That Time may still but ne'er destroy.
An ancient Spring revives itself,
And days which made the past divine;
And rich warm gleams from golden dreams,
All glorious in their summer shine;
And songs of half forgotten hours,
And many a sweet melodious strain,
Which still shall rise
Beneath the skies
When all things else have died again.
A white sail glimmers out at sea --
A vessel walking in her sleep;
Some Power goes past
That bends the mast,
While frighted waves to leeward leap.
The moonshine veils the naked sand
And ripples upward with the tide,
As underground there rolls a sound
From where the caverned waters glide.
A face that bears affection's glow,
The soul that speaks from gentle eyes,
And joy which slips
From loving lips
Have made this spot my Paradise!
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midnight And Moonlight
AS one singled out from his fellows,
Enchanted I roam
Through night with its music and moonlight,
And sea-sheen and foam.
'Twas Beauty herself that awoke me
And whispered 'Arise,
I have lit all the lamps of my palace
To gladden your eyes!'
I rose at her bidding, and surely
'Tis just as she said —
The moon, spilling splendour around me,
Brimfull overhead;
Rich perfumes from garden and garden
Rare blossoms outpour;
The sea, broad and bright to the skyline,
Sings low to the shore.
The beach, a brave riband of silver,
All radiant shines,
'Twixt the white of the surf on its sea edge
And the dark of the pines.
And the white of the surf on its sea-edge
A wonder-light gives,
And the dark of the pines is the darkness
Where mystery lives.
Can it be that this scene goes unwitnessed
Except by my eyes —
These splendours that start from the ocean
And rain from the skies?
Unaware of the light and the wonder,
In slumber sunk deep,
Young and old, they lie blind on their couches.
Eyes lidded in sleep.
Though pearl-tinted breakers be falling,
Unvisioned they fall —
Oh Sleep! art thou jealous of Beauty
To hold them in thrall?
How I long for a magical bugle,
Sweet-throated and clear,
To sound through their slumbers and wake them,
And summon them here!
Then old men and young men forth-coming
Would sigh their delight;
And maidens, white-throated, barefooted,
In garments of white;
And all would speak well of the bugle,
And praise its sweet sound
That made them the guest-folk of Beauty
In radiance gowned.
Spell-bound they would stand in her presence,
Souls steeped in amaze,
The thrill of her magic upon them —
Sea-sheen and moonrays —
Spell-bound with the mystic enchantment,
Till one in that throng,
With a rapture exceeding all raptures
Of passion and song,
Would beget of his musing a vision
As wondrous as she
Who was fashioned of dream-stuff and moonlight
And foam of the sea.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unyielding Passion
Your eyes so gorgeous and green,
Your lips so soft and sweet,
Your hair so curly and beautiful,
Your belly so warm and soft,
Your affection so sweet and caring,
Your arms so tight and loving,
Our love so perfect and everlasting!
My baby, I stare so deep into your gorgeous green eyes and
I promise on my life!
That I will spend forever with you!
I will never let go!
I will never hurt you!
I will hold you in my arms every chance I get!
I will always truly love you with all my heart! And not an ounce less!
I will be your guardian, your protector, your everything!
If I could only have one thing in this world, I would most definitely choose you!
poem by Jacob Gifford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only If...
only if your lips bleed
when you speak,
and your hand trembles
just a bit.
if your eyes become
wet with longing...
and your heart pounds,
like waves against the shore.
if the wind in your hair
builds a nest,
for the mockingbird
to hatch her young...
and if the truth falls
like a single bead of sweat...
only then,
will we speak of love!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bagpipe Who Didn’t Say No
It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three
When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shoreside by the sea,
And the turtle said, 'My dearie,
May I sit with you? I'm weary.'
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'I have walked this lonely shore,
I have talked to waves and pebbles--but I've never loved before.
Will you marry me today, dear?
Is it 'No' you're going to say dear?'
But the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to his darling, 'Please excuse me if I stare,
But you have the plaidest skin, dear,
And you have the strangest hair.
If I begged you pretty please, love,
Could I give you just one squeeze, love?'
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'Ah, you love me. Then confess!
Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest.'
And he cuddled her and teased her
And so lovingly he squeezed her.
And the bagpipe said, 'Aaooga.'
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'Did you honk or bray or neigh?
For 'Aaooga' when your kissed is such a heartless thing to say.
Is it that I have offended?
Is it that our love is ended?'
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'Shall i leave you, darling wife?
Shall i waddle off to Woedom? Shall i crawl out of your life?
Shall I move, depart and go, dear--
Oh, I beg you tell me 'No' dear!'
But the bagpipe didn't say no.
So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more,
And he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore.
And some night when tide is low there,
Just walk up and say, 'Hello, there,'
And politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so.
I assure you, darling children, the bagpipe won't say 'No.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song VII: Dawn Talks to Day
Dawn talks to Day
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world is a-listening.
O Love, set a word in my mouth for our meeting,
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart's beating!
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!
Morn shall meet noon
While the flower-stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above.
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken;
Bright thine eyes shine,
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!
Late day shall greet eve,
And the full blossoms shake,
For the wind will not leave
The tall trees while they wake.
Eyes soft with bliss,
Come nigher and nigher!
Sweet mouth I kiss,
Tell me all thy desire!
Let us speak, love, together some words of our story,
That our lips as they part may remember the glory!
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake!
Eve shall kiss night,
And the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light
O'er the grass of the plain.
Unseen are thine eyes
Mid the dreamy night's sleeping,
And on my mouth there lies
The dear rain of thy weeping.
Hold silence, love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad-hearted!
O kind day, O dear day, short day, come again!
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love You
I love your lips when they're wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm white flesh
Touches mine in a fond embrace;
I love your hair when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
Not for me the cold calm kiss
Of a virgin's bloodless love;
Not for me the saint's white bliss,
Nor the heart of a spotless dove.
But give me the love that so freely gives
And laughs at the whole world's blame,
With your body so young and warm in my arms,
It sets my poor heart aflame.
So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,
Still fragrant with ruby wine,
And say with a fervor born of the South
That your body and soul are mine.
Clasp me close in your warm young arms,
While the pale stars shine above,
And we'll live our whole young lives away
In the joys of a living love.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young Greek Odalisque
’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 shone supremely fair.
’Tis true that orbs as dark as hers in melting softness shone,
And lips whose coral hue might vie in brightness with her own;
And forms as light as ever might in Moslem’s heaven be found,
So full of beauty’s witching grace, were lightly hovering round.
Yet, oh, how paled their brilliant charms before that beauteous one
Who, ’mid their gay mirth, silent sat, from all apart—alone,
Outshining all, not by the spells of lovely face or form,
But by the soul that shone through all, her peerless, priceless charm.
But, say, what were the visions sweet that filled that gentle heart?
Surely to Azof, her liege lord, was given the greatest part,—
To him who prized her smiles beyond the power his sceptre gave,
And, mighty sultan though he was, to her was as a slave.
No, not of crowned heads thought she then, of hall or gilded dome,
But of fair Greece, that classic land, her loved, her early home.
She yearns to see again its skies, proud temples, woodland flowers,
Less bright, but dearer far, than those that bloom in harem bowers.
She glanced upon the jewels rich that gemmed her shining hair,
And wreathed her sculptured, snowy arms, her neck and brow so fair.
Their lustre softened not the pangs that filled that lonely hour,
More happy was she when her braids were decked with simple flower.
But, Azof, did not thought of him some passing joy impart;
Did not the memory of his love bring gladness to her heart?
Alas, that long and heavy sigh, the glitt’ring tear that fell
From ’neath her dark and drooping lids, told more than words could tell.
Awhile she weeps, and then a change steals o’er her mournful dream,
Her gloomy thoughts are chased away, and all things brighter seem,
A timid and yet blissful smile lights up her beauteous brow,
Her soft cheek crimsons, but, oh’ not of Azof thinks she now.
Perchance of some gallant Greek she knew in life’s young hour,
Some childish love as guileless as her love for bird or flower,
But which, looked back on through the mist of absence or of time,
Seemed sad and sweet as are the words—of some old childish rhyme.
Could he, her royal lover, now but look into her heart,
And read its depths, how sharp the pang that knowledge would impart,
But no, secure in certain bliss, he deems her all his own,
And prides himself that girlish heart loves him and him alone.
The sadness which might have awaked suspicion or mistrust,
Was of the spells she swayed him by, the dearest and the first,—
He deemed it but the token of a timid gentle heart,
That ever kept from needless show or noisy mirth apart.
He knew not that the voice which now sang but some mournful lay
Breathed once the soul of joyousness, was gayest of the gay,
That the soft laugh whose magic power his very heart strings stirred,
Though now so rare, in girlhood’s home had oftentimes been heard!
Th’ averted head, the timid look the half unwilling ear,
With which she met his vows of love, he deemed but girlish fear,
Nor ever dreamed that she whom all considered as thrice blessed,
Whose life was like a summer day loved, honored and caressed;
Who held, a captive to her charms, a most accomplished knight
And monarch brave that ever yet had bowed to woman’s might
Was but a poor and joyless slave, compelled to wear a smile
And act a part for which she loathed her wretched self the while.
But, like some fair exotic brought unto a foreign strand,
She lost her bloom and pined to see once more her native land,
And only when from earthly scenes death summoned her to part
A blissful smile played round her lips, and peace was in her heart.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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