How splendid in the morning glows
the lily; with what grace he throws
His supplication to the rose:
do roses nod the head, Yasmin?
But when the silver dove descends
I find the little flower of friends
Whose very name that sweetly ends
I say when I have said, 'Yasmin'.
The morning light is clear and cold,
I dare not in that light behold
A deeper light, a deeper gold
a glory too far shed, Yasmin.
But when the deep red eye of day
is level with the lone highway,
And some to Mecca turn to pray,
and I toward thy bed, Yasmin,
Or when the wind beneath the moon
is dazzling like a soul aswoon,
And harping planets talk love's tune
with milky wings outspread, Yasmin,
Shine down thy love, O burning bright!
for one night or the other night
Will come the Gardener in white,
and gather'd flowers are dead, Yasmin!
Comments about this poem (Hassan's Serenade by James Elroy Flecker )
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