Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Asia: Vols. XXI–XXIII. 1876–79.
An Oriental Idyl
By Bayard Taylor (18251878)A
Have hurled upon the plain below,
The fleetest of the Pharpar’s rills,
Beneath me shoots in flashing flow.
Of jostling waves that come and go,
And suck the bubbling pipe, and quaff
The sherbet cooled in mountain snow.
Beneath the canopy of shade;
And in the distant, dim bazaars
I scarcely hear the hum of trade.
Darkens my heaven of perfect blue;
My blood is tempered to the morn,—
My very heart is steeped in dew.
But half I guess what Joy may be;
And, as a pearl within its shell,
The happy spirit sleeps in me.
The tides of Passion’s ruddy sea,—
But live the sweet, unconscious life
That breathes from yonder jasmine-tree.
Of gay Damascus’ streets I look
As idly as a babe that sees
The painted pictures of a book.
The Past is blotted from my brain;
For Memory sleeps, and will not trace
The weary pages o’er again.
And sweet the dewy morning air;
But does it play with tendrilled vines,
Or does it lightly lift my hair?
This ignorance is bliss extreme;
And whether I be Man, or Rose,
O, pluck me not from out my dream!