ARE these the streets that I used to know— Was it yesterday or æons ago? Where are the armies that used to wait— The pilgrims of Love—at your palace gate? The joyous pæans that thrilled the air The pageants that shone thro' your palace square? And the minstrel music that used to ring Thro' your magic kingdom ... when you were king? O hands that succoured a people's need With the splendour of Haroun-al-Rasheed! O heart that solaced a sad world's cry With the sumptuous bounty of Hatim Tai! Where are the days that were winged and clad In the fabulous glamour of old Baghdad, And the bird of glory that used to sing In your magic kingdom ... when you were king? O king, in your kingdom there is no change, 'Tis only my soul that hath grown so strange, So faint with sorrow it cannot hear Aught save the chant at your rose-crowned bier. My grieving bosom hath grown too cold To clasp the beauty it treasured of old, The grace of life and the gifts of spring, And the dreams I cherished ... when you were king! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPARROW HARK IN THE RAIN (ALEXANDER STEPHENS HEARS NEWS) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 47. THE CARPENTER'S SON by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE DONG WITH A LUMINOUS NOSE by EDWARD LEAR THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 13 by OMAR KHAYYAM |