Dark eyed, O woman of my dreams, Ivory sandaled, There is none like thee among the dancers, None with swift feet. I have not found thee in the tents, In the broken darkness. I have not found thee at the well-head Among the women with pitchers. Thine arms are as a young sapling under the bark; Thy face as a river with lights. White as an almond are thy shoulders; As new almonds stripped from the husk. They guard thee not with eunuchs; Not with bars of copper. Gilt turquoise and silver are in the place of thy rest. A brown robe, with threads of gold woven in patterns, hast thou gathered about thee, O Nathat-Ikanaie, "Tree-at-the-river." As a rillet among the sedge are thy hands upon me; Thy fingers a frosted stream. Thy maidens are white like pebbles; Their music about thee! There is none like thee among the dancers; None with swift feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OPPORTUNITY by JOHN JAMES INGALLS TO MR. THOMAS SOUTHERNE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 1742 by ALEXANDER POPE A SOUL; A STUDY by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE CAUTIOUS HOUSEHOLDER by ANAXILAS ON FILE by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS ON THE BIRTH OF A FRIEND'S ELDEST SON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A CHRISTMAS CAMP ON THE SAN GABR'EL by AMELIA EDITH HUDDLESTON BARR FIAMMETTA: SONNET. OF HIS LAST SIGHT OF FIAMMETTA by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO |