NEAR strange, weird temples, where the Ganges' tide Bathes domed Lahore, I watched, by spice-trees fanned, Her agile form in some quaint saraband, A marvel of passionate chastity and pride. Nude to the loins, superb and leopard-eyed, With fragrant roses in her jewelled hand, Before some Kaat-drunk Rajah, mute and grand, Her flexile body bends, her white feet glide. The dull Kinoors throb one monotonous tune, And wail with zeal as in a hasheesh trance; Her scintillant eyes in vague, ecstatic charm Burn like black stars below the Orient moon, While the suave, dreamy languor of the dance Lulls the grim, drowsy cobra on her arm. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 14 by OMAR KHAYYAM LEXINGTON; 1775 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER LOVE SONG by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MIANTOWONA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNET (4) by JOACHIM DU BELLAY COLORED HEROES, HARK THE BUGLE; POLITICAL by ROBERT CHARLES O'HARA BENJAMIN LOVE AND LANGUAGE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON EPISTLE TO THE REV. JOHN M'MATH by ROBERT BURNS PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY: OF PROPRIETY by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |