Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ALHAMBRA SONGS: 1. THE DREAM OF ALAHMAR, by THOMAS WALSH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ALHAMBRA SONGS: 1. THE DREAM OF ALAHMAR, by                    
First Line: - 'rouse thee, alahmar!' cried the angel's voice
Last Line: "who prayed,—who toiled,—who conquered,—and is old!"
Alternate Author Name(s): Gill, Roderick; Strange, Garrett
Subject(s): Nature; Spain


—"ROUSE thee, Alahmar!" cried the Angel's voice,—
"Rise, Monarch of Granada, and rejoice
That all thy wanderings and warfare passed,
Lo, to Alhambra thou art come at last!
Yea, though thy body be with toils outworn—
Thy raiment tattered—thy white beard unshorn—
Though yet beside thee from the last advance
Lie bloody shield, and scimitar, and lance,—
Rouse thee and speak thy will!—for I, Djabír,
Whose holy prescience led thee year by year
By devious paths o'er seas and mountain ways,
Through craft and bloodshed—all for Allah's praise!
Lo, I am here to wait thy last behest!—"
Then spoke Alahmar: "Grant me but to rest,
To rest this brain and body waxing old
And soon to sink again into the mould—
A place of rest, O Prince of spells, Djabír,—
Weave thou my dreams into a palace here.
Here let its arches swing their fold on fold
As on the desert did our tents of old
With fringe and blazonment along the brink
Of cool oäses. Let us drowsing think
Its slender pillars are the palmtrees frail
That gave us food and shelter without fail.
For ornament our sacred carpets use,
And tile the walls with burnished golds and blues
And shimmering greens to match the peacock plumes
That trailed adown the royal garden glooms
Of proud Damascus or of Isphahan
What time our headsmen through their portals ran.
Go, sack a hundred treasuries afar
For pearls and rubies! Strip each rich bazaar
From Fez and Cairo unto Hindostan
Of lamps and weavings! Track each caravan
For silken carpets!—till Alahmar's halls
Shall gleam like some old capital that falls—
Throughout whose streets are treasures spilled and strewn
Where slaves and concubines dishevelled swoon,
And brows with diadems are in the dust,
The while our Caliphs sweeping like the gust
Across the mountain forests gold and sere,
Trample them all—so deck Alhambra here!
But, lest at length these storied splendours pall,
Range lordly gardens here as in Bengal,
With hidden courts of cypress and of rose
Shading the pools in tints as soft as those
We marked of old within belovéd eyes;
Reaches of poppy whose red border lies
By long canals reflected; tiled retreats
Of fig and myrtle; terraced walks and seats
'Mong tamarisk and citron, whence to gaze
Down on Granada's rooftops in the haze
Of noontide while the swaying banks of rose
All day make signal to the mountain snows.
Yea, let there be a rush of waters cool
Down to Granada from each spring and pool,
And mountain torrent,—waters that shall speak
Unto our hearts of boyhood streams that seek
The Persian Gulf—like oldtime Bendemeer,
Or Indus where our parching lips found cheer.
Throughout a hundred basins let them flow
Murmuring like kisses of the long-ago;
Basins whose gold-stained arabesques of stone
Shall bear such legendries as—"God Alone
Most-High hath Conquest"; fonts of chrysophrase
Above whose Lions, Cufic scrolls emblaze:—
"Lo, here are waters copious as the Nile"———
"Yea, terrible in battle He whose smile
Hath lit these gardens."—When their floods have run
Through flowery labyrinths of shade and sun
And moss-stained vase and alabaster niche,
From off the summits let their waters pitch
And foam through cypress gorges to the town,
Like silver largess that I scatter down.
Then let the mountains gather round, and lean
Their brows of snow against my groves of green—
By day let steel-clad horsemen ceaseless climb
To hear the mandate of their lord sublime;
By night—the hint of cymbals like the spray
Of moonlight scattered; flutes that stay
The sob of nightingales; the silvery beat
Half-heard, half-seen—of fair Castilian feet.———
Then rest—then sleep———! Ah, Allah's arms shall hold
Place for Alahmar whose account is told;
Who prayed,—who toiled,—who conquered,—and is old!"





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