FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56  
57   58   59   60   >>  
mb, and therein slept, Until the world, like some round shield upraised, Splintered the thrown spears of dawn. As he woke, He found himself ensnared in some thick web, Yet reached his knife, and slowly cut it through; Then when he stood, a monstrous spider fled. At this recital on the slanted shore, Another joined us from the cottage near-- A vine-clad cottage, lit for love's abode. A lily-croft, with trees, encinctured it; Like Ahab in his house of ivory Dining on sweets, the king bee here Sipped in the snowy lily's palace hall; And here were yellow lilies strewn about, As though the place had been the banquet grove Of Shishak, king of Egypt; for the flowers Seemed like the cups of gold that Solomon Wrought for the holy service of the Lord. "This is my daughter," said the fisherman. Her head and face were covered with a scarf, But large dark eyes looked forth, and in their depths I saw a soul all tenderness and truth. (Often, in dreams, I thought it sweet to die, And reft of this gross vision, see at last, As the large soul, quit of the body can, Another soul set free and purified.) The modest maid a crimson jacket wore, And to her knee the broidered skirt hung down; While 'neath, the Turkish garment was confined In plaits about the ankles; but her shoes Revealed the naked insteps of her feet. I bade her there adieu, upon the shore Of the clear Bospore. As I wandered back, I thought much of the spider that I sought; But more of two dark eyes, that seemed two stars Which shone down in my heart; while the far space Behind them, pure, but unknown, was the soul. I thought to test this maiden's charity; And so, one friendly day, put on a robe Tattered and soiled with use. As she went by, I strode abruptly from behind a wall, And faced her with a face disguised, and held My hand out while I begged for some small alms. She gave abundantly from her lean purse, And with a look of tender pity, passed. It matters little who it is that asks, Or whether he deserves the alms or not; That given with free heart, is given to God, And not to him who takes. Day after day, Henceforth, I strode a coastward way, to meet The dark-eyed daughter of the fisherman. Beneath her roof she made my welcome sweet, And yielded both her hands, and drew the scarf That veiled the wondrous beauty of her face. If painter, or if sculptor, in some dr
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56  
57   58   59   60   >>  



Top keywords:

thought

 

cottage

 
daughter
 

fisherman

 

strode

 

Another

 

spider

 

plaits

 

ankles

 

unknown


Turkish
 

charity

 

maiden

 

garment

 

Behind

 

confined

 

insteps

 

wandered

 

Bospore

 

sought


Revealed

 

disguised

 

coastward

 

Henceforth

 

Beneath

 

deserves

 

beauty

 

painter

 

sculptor

 
wondrous

veiled

 
yielded
 

abruptly

 

Tattered

 

soiled

 

tender

 

passed

 

matters

 

begged

 

abundantly


friendly

 

joined

 

monstrous

 

recital

 

slanted

 

Sipped

 

palace

 
sweets
 

Dining

 

encinctured