HAROUN, Haroun, thou art gone from us, Haroun! And all the Arabian nights are filled with sighing, And all the gardens of Bagdad aswoon In a red dream of sorrowful lovers dying. Bountiful vagrant in our childish town, Hid in thy merchant robes, Islam's Commander, Shadow of Allah, no historic frown Could teach us of thee any solemn slander. No book could touch thy throne, for what thou wert The poets and adoring childhood made thee; None but the poets then could do thee hurt, And now, Haroun, a poet has betrayed thee. Sons of enchantment, mourn! for lo, from now Haroun the Caliph wears a blackened brow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIRST BLUEBIRD by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY SUNDAY MORNING by WALLACE STEVENS THE MORAL FABLES: THE WOLF AND THE WETHER by AESOP A SONG OF LABOUR; DEDICATED TO MY FELLOW-WORKERS WITH PICK AND SHOVEL by ALEXANDER ANDERSON CHARACTERS: WILLIAM ENFIELD by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE INVITATION by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |