Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Asia: Vols. XXI–XXIII. 1876–79.
Fly to the Desert
By Thomas Moore (17791852)F
Our Arab tents are rude for thee;
But, oh, the choice what heart can doubt,
Of tents with love, or thrones without?
The acacia waves her yellow hair,
Lonely and sweet, nor loved the less
For flowering in a wilderness.
The silvery-footed antelope
As gracefully and gayly springs
As o’er the marble courts of kings.
The loved and lone acacia-tree,
The antelope, whose feet shall bless
With their light sound thy loneliness.
An instant sunshine through the heart,—
As if the soul that minute caught
Some treasure it through life had sought;
Predestined to have all our sighs,
And never be forgot again,
Sparkled and spoke before us then!
When first on me they breathed and shone;
New, as if brought from other spheres,
Yet welcome as if loved for years.
No other flame, nor falsely thrown
A gem away, that thou hadst sworn
Should ever in thy heart be worn.
Is pure and fresh as mine for thee,
Fresh as the fountain under ground,
When first ’t is by the lapwing found.
Some other maid, and rudely break
Her worshipped image from its base,
To give to me the ruined place;
My bower upon some icy lake
When thawing suns begin to shine,
Than trust to love so false as thine!