My dearest lovers know me not; I hide my life and soul from sight; I conquer all whose blood is hot; My mystery is my mail of might. I had a troupe who danced with me: I veiled myself from head to foot; My girls were nude as they dared be; They sang a chorus, I was mute. But now I fill the widest stage Alone, unveiled, without a song; And still with mystery I engage The aching senses of the throng. A dark-blue vest with stars of gold, My only diamond in my hair, An Indian scarf about me rolled: That is the dress I always wear. And first the sensuous music whets The lustful crowd; the dim-lit room Recalls delights, recalls regrets; And then I enter in the gloom. I glide, I trip, I run, I spin, Lapped in the lime-light's aureole. Hushed are the voices, hushed the din, I see men's eyes like glowing coal. My loosened scarf in odours drenched Showers keener hints of sensual bliss; The music swoons, the light is quenched, Into the dark I blow a kiss. Then, like a long wave rolling home, The music gathers speed and sound; I , dancing, am the music's foam, And wilder, fleeter, higher bound, And fling my feet above my head; The light grows, none aside may glance; Crimson and amber, green and red, In blinding baths of these I dance. And soft, and sweet, and calm, my face Looks pure as unsunned chastity, Even in the whirling triple pace: That is my conquering mystery. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARTHA WASHINGTON by SIDNEY LANIER LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM ON A GRAVE AT GRINDELWALD by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS SUDDEN LIGHT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PRAYER OF AN UNEMPLOYED MAN by W. C. ACKERLY BOTHWELL: PART 5 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |