COME, my beauty! come, my desert darling! On my shoulder lay thy glossy head! Fear not, though the barley-sack be empty, Here's the half of Hassan's scanty bread. Thou shalt have thy share of dates, my beauty! And thou know'st my water-skin is free: Drink and welcome, for the wells are distant, And my strength and safety lie in thee. Bend thy forehead now, to take my kisses! Lift in love thy dark and splendid eye: Thou art glad when Hassan mounts the saddle, -- Thou art proud he owns thee: so am I. Let the Sultan bring his boasted horses, Prancing with their diamond-studded reins; They, my darling, shall not match thy fleetness When they course with thee the desert-plains! Let the Sultan bring his famous horses, Let him bring his golden swords to me, -- Bring his slaves, his eunuchs, and his harem; He would offer them in vain for thee. We have seen Damascus, O my beauty! And the splendor of the Pashas there: What 's their pomp and riches? Why, I would not Take them for a handful of thy hair! Khaled sings the praises of his mistress, And, because I've none, he pities me: What care I if he should have a thousand, Fairer than the morning? @3I@1 have thee. He will find his passion growing cooler, Should her glance on other suitors fall; Thou wilt ne'er, my mistress and my darling, Fail to answer at thy master's call. By and by some snow-white Nedjid stallion Shall to thee his spring-time ardor bring; And a foal, the fairest of the Desert, To thy milky dugs shall crouch and cling. Then, when Khaled shows to me his children, I shall laugh, and bid him look at thine; Thou wilt neigh, and lovingly caress me, With thy glossy neck laid close to mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON WARREN'S ADDRESS [TO THE AMERICANS] [AT BUNKER HILL] [JUNE 17, 1775] by JOHN PIERPONT SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 3. THE VOLUNTARY PRISONER by PHILIP AYRES PSALM 137 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 33 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |