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Burton, Sir Richard - THE KASÎDAH 01 1

THE hour is nigh; the waning Queen
walks forth to rule the later night;
Crown'd with the sparkle of a Star,
and throned on orb of ashen light:

The Wolf-tail sweeps the paling East
to leave a deeper gloom behind,
And Dawn uprears her shining head,
sighing with semblance of a wind:

The highlands catch yon Orient gleam,
while purpling still the lowlands lie;
And pearly mists, the morning-pride,
soar incense-like to greet the sky.

The horses neigh, the camels groan,
the torches gleam, the cressets flare;
The town of canvas falls, and man
with din and dint invadeth air:

The Golden Gates swing right and left;
up springs the Sun with flamy brow;
The dew-cloud melts in gush of light;
brown Earth is bathed in morning-glow.

Slowly they wind athwart the wild,
and while young Day his anthem swells,
Sad falls upon my yearning ear
The tinkling of the camel-bells:

O'er fiery wastes and frozen wold,
o'er horrid hill and gloomy glen,
The home of grisly beast and Ghoul,
the haunts of wilder, grislier men;--

With the brief gladness of the Palms,
that tower and sway o'er seething plain,
Fraught with the thoughts of rustling shade,
and welling spring, and rushing rain;

With the short solace of the ridge,
by gentle zephyrs played upon,
Whose breezy head and bosky side
front seas of cooly celadon;--

'Tis theirs to pass with joy and hope,
whose souls shall ever thrill and fill
Dreams of the Birthplace and the Tomb,
visions of Allah's Holy Hill.