TO my sleeping dear Zuleima's Bosom run, ye tears all burning! Then will her sweet heart for Abdul 'Gin to beat with tender yearning. Round my sleeping dear Zuleima's Ear disport, ye tears of anguish! Then will her fair head in vision Sweet for Abdul's love straight languish O'er my sleeping dear Zuleima's Soft hand stream, my heart's blood gushing! Then will her sweet hand bear on it Abdul's heart's blood, crimson flushing. Sorrow is, alas, born voiceless, In its mouth no tongue is growing, It hath only tears and sighing, And blood from the heart's wounds flowing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONNET, TO THE NOBLE LADY, THE LADY MARY WROTH by BEN JONSON THE BIRDS: THE HOOPOE'S CALL TO HIS WIFE PROCNE, THE NIGHTINGALE by ARISTOPHANES THE OUTLAW by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS DEATH IN A BALL-ROOM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TO A DISCIPLE OF WILLIAM MORRIS by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE TRUE LOVER by SIMON BOUGOING TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. A COTTAGE AMONG THE HILLS by EDWARD CARPENTER |