UNDER a palm in Galilee,
Hearing the whispers of the sea,
A vision showed itself to me.
They bring me to a sultan's tent,
My shaven head is bowed and bent,
My golden robe is torn and rent.
I toss the desert sands about,
The silken eunuchs scream and shout,
I kneel and let them mock and flout.
I curse them and their prophet too,
And then the mad sultan dagger drew,
And on me like a panther flew.
I rub my ring-I am alone;
Over my head the vulture's flown,
That bore me from the tyrant's throne.
The Nile flows softly by my side,
The palm trees whisper-then I cried,
"O Lord, methinks I'd better died!”
Against the rosy evening sky,
The doves bound all to Cairo fly;
"O had I wings like them!" I cry.
I down the yellow river float,
In Egypt's mummy coffin boat;
Of what grave-plunder should I note?
I dig beneath the tamarisk,
Under the shattered obelisk,
Graven with planet and with disk.
I found the buried Pharoah's robe,
His serpent crown and golden globe,
I threw away my ragged tobe.
I leapt into the coffin craft,
Tears from the funeral urn I quaffed,
I wept, and then I rose and laughed.
I passed an iceberg all a-shine,
With flashing purple lights of wine,
With diamond lustre hyaline.
I floated to a sandy beach,
A dead man hailed me-but his speech Was low, his hand I could not reach.
The winged Tartar horsemen came,
And bore me in a gust of flame
Through burning cities, till so tame
My wild horse grew, it licked my hand,
And watched me on the desert sand;—
I struck the gates of Samarcand.
I saw black tents spread everywhere,
Neighings that shook the icy air,
The green corn rising thick and fair.
Bright in the distance China lay,
Pagoda's tinkling bells I may
Scarce hear-I see the wall's array.
The silk-robed men with peacock plumes,
Fair, golden coats-and now there looms
A city grand with marble tombs.
Great domes, and minarets, and towers;
'Tis Delhi !-priests proclaim the hours,
And call to prayers; but we are Giaours.
Our horse-tail standards swept along,
With cymbal and barbaric song,
I was the leader of the throng.
The elephants, ten thousand, came
Like moving mountains, eyes of flame,
And all this Bajazet to tame.
They shout, and call me Tamerlane,
I ride o'er smoking Samarcane,
And brain the idol of the fane.
I burst the bubble god, and out
Leap countless bezants round about;
The bowing millions cry and shout.
Now Moussul and the East is mine,
From where great Baldac's turrets shine,
To Yang-fu, and the proud Nan-ghine.
I mount the Caliph's seat, and tread
The conqueror's vintage gory red;
The kings pray to me for their bread.
They bring me spices, gold, and gems,
I bruise the Syrian diadems,
My Tartar horse the world o'erwhelms.
From Cush to snowiest Himaleh,
To Ceylon and its bluest bay,
Red idols strewed my chariot way.
My crimson banners dim the sun,
The stars, my heralds, chase and run,
Hailing me lord, the sovereign one.
They bring me spice and ivory,
With falcons, stately, from the sea,
And frankincense from far Nanjee.
I fell asleep within my tent,
As on to conquer Balkh I went ;
I woke, and all my pride was rent.
My horse lay smitten by the wind,
Before, beside me, and behind,
No living creature could I find.
One camel only calmly fed,
I leaped upon him, and his head
Turned ronnd to see the heaps of dead.
Three days and nights I wandered on ;
Like fire above me burnt the sun,
My bag of rice was long since gone.
The parrots screamed, and like a flame,
Flamingoes through the silence came;
Another land, and yet the same.
The peasant sows his melon seed,
The goats beside him
beside him crop and feed,
I heard the child the Koran read.
Then desert strewn with pilgrim's bones,
Rich perfumes, and the Indian stones,
Lost treasures from the distant zones.
I trod the gems to dust, my blood
Was fevered: "Take this gold for food,"
I cried, and gnawed the cedar wood.
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