Clark Ashton Smith


An Oriental Song - Poem by Clark Ashton Smith

The last red rays of the sun are glowing
On minaret and wall,
Slowly they sink, so slowly going,
And the shadows spread o'er all.
And loudly thru the gleaming rings
The muezzin's call to prayer.
I smile, and think of other things,
Of heaven, and all that is there.

Yet into my brain there steals
Slowly, sweet thoughts of thee.
While my knee to Allah kneels,
My heart, in secret, kneels to thee.
My brain is a chamber haunted
By the image of thy face.
'Tis a holy shrine, enchanted,
By thy lingering, sensuous grace.

But welcome the ghost that haunts me,
The image of my sweet.
Dear is the face that enchants me,
And the eyes have brought me to thy feet.
Where are the waters that can quench
My quenchless love for thee?
For there is no earthly power or strength
That can separate thou and me.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 26, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, May 26, 2014


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