The Desert is parched in the burning sun
And the grass is scorched and white.
But the sand is passed, and the march is done,
...
Beat on the Tom-toms, and scatter the flowers,
Jasmin, Hibiscus, vermillion and white,
This is the day, and the Hour of Hours,
...
Song of Khan Zada
Only in August my heart was aflame,
Catching the scent of your Wind-stirred hair,
...
You are my God, and I would fain adore You
With sweet and secret rites of other days.
...
_Bridegroom_
I give you my house and my lands, all golden with harvest;
My sword, my shield, and my jewels, the spoils of my strife,
...
Oh, Silver Stars that shine on what I love,
Touch the soft hair and sparkle in the eyes,--
Send, from your calm serenity above,
...
His back is bent and his lips are blue,
Shivering out in the wet:
'Here's a florin, my man, for you,
Go and get drunk and forget!'
...
She was fair as a Passion-flower,
(But little of love he knew.)
Her lucent eyes were like amber wine,
And her eyelids stained with blue.
...
Out I came from the dancing-place:
The night-wind met me face to face--
A wind off the harbour, cold and keen,
...
The tremulous morning is breaking
Against the white waste of the sky,
And hundreds of birds are awaking
In tamarisk bushes hard by.
...