WHAT curled and scented sun-girls, almond-eyed, With lotos-blossoms in their hands and hair, Have made their swarthy lovers call them fair, With these spent strings, when brutes were deified, And Memnon in the sunrise sprang and cried, And love-winds smote Bubastis, and the bare Black breasts of carven Pasht received the prayer Of suppliants bearing gifts from far and wide! This lute has out-sung Egypt; all the lives Of violent passion, and the vast calm art That lasts in granite only, all lie dead; This little bird of song alone survives, As fresh as when its fluting smote the heart Last time the brown slave wore it garlanded. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH IN GRANTCHESTER MEADOWS; ON HEARING A SKYLARK SING by GEORGE SANTAYANA SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY DAYBREAK by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WALLS by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. MELANCHOLIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |