IN the draperies' purple gloom, In the gilded chamber she stands, I catch a glimpse of her bosom's bloom, And the white of her jewelled hands. Each wandering wind that blows By the lattice, seems to bear From her parted lips the scent of the rose, And the jasmine from her hair. Her dark-browed odalisques lean To the fountain's feathery rain, And a paroquet, by the broidered screen, Dangles its silvery chain. But pallid, luminous, cold, Like a phantom she fills the place, Sick to the heart, in that cage of gold, With her sumptuous disgrace! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 3. NAPLES by SARA TEASDALE A BANJO SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE LITANY [TO THE HOLY SPIRIT] by ROBERT HERRICK ROBINSON CRUSOE by MOTHER GOOSE TO DEATH OF HIS LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON WITH A NANTUCKET SHELL by CHARLES HENRY WEBB ADAM'S CURSE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO DR. AIKIN ON HIS COMPLAINING THAT SHE NEGLECTED HIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |