Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LOVER OF QUEEN SHEBA, by ARTHUR WILLIAM SYMONS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LOVER OF QUEEN SHEBA, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I live before the moon of queens
Last Line: Bow down to me, o solomon!
Subject(s): Sheba, Queen Of (10th Century B.c.)


A YOUTH OF SHEBA. THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
THE HERALD. KING SOLOMON.

THE YOUTH.
I live before the Moon of Queens,
I live and die before her sweet,
White, secret, wise, indifferent feet;
And love, that is my life-blood, means
No more to her than summer heat
Or sudden sweetness of the flowers.
O colder than the icy moon,
That hides and dreams all day, to swoon
At night among the starry hours
When the pale night is at its noon!
She, the one whiteness of the earth,
For whom the ardent valley grows
A flame, an odour, and the rose,
Finds in the world but wisdom worth
The trouble of the soul's repose.
Kings from the West, Kings from the East,
Have poured out gold, incense, and myrrh
In tribute at the feet of her,
To whom the word of sage or priest
Is more than these, and lovelier
Than battles reddening the plain,
Or cities washed with smoking waves,
Or far-off continents of slaves
Bound captive to her anklet chain,
Or conquest of uncounted graves.
Kings from the East, Kings from the West,
Have come and gone, and no man yet
Has found the frozen amulet
That seals her heart within her breast

THE HERALD.
Room for the Queen of Sheba, let
The hearts and knees of all men bow!

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
O gazer of the stars, draw near,
I have a tiding for thine ear,
Now all things are accomplished, now
The master of the world is here:
Mine eyes have looked on Solomon.

THE YOUTH.
May the Queen prosper in all things!

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
The wisdom of the King of Kings
Is as his God's pavilion,
Pure gold, and veiled by seraph's wings.
Else were it brighter than white light:
As in a tender sea I bathe
In brightness, and its waves enswathe
My inmost spirit with delight.
THE YOUTH.
Be all things even as the Queen saith!

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
I have unburdened all my soul,
And he has filled my soul with his:
There is none wiser than he is,
His soul has opened to the whole
World's wisdom, as to happiness,
And wisdom blossoms like a flower
That need but blossom to be fair;
And as the crown upon his hair
His pure magnificence of power
Garlands his going everywhere.

THE YOUTH.
The Queen is wiser than all men;
Why should the Queen of Queens bow down
To any wisdom, when the crown
Of wisdom is her own, and when
The soul of wisdom is her own?

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
I am a child before this man,
I have but played with toys, and fought
With shadows, and my little thought
Shrivels before him to a span,
And all I am is less than nought.

THE YOUTH.
Madam, the Kings of all the earth
Have been accounted in your eyes
Even as a little dust of spice,
A little fragrant moment's worth;
Yet these, although they were not wise.
Madam, these loved you with a love
That was a shield and buckler flung
About your life, a banner hung
Upon the topmost towers thereof;
And these were mighty, and these young,
And all had died for you, and all
Had lived for you, and all had been,
Being Kings, the servants of the Queen.
Shall Solomon attend your call,
Shall he, a slave with slaves, be seen?

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
O youth that speakest these brave words,
Hast thou loved any?

THE YOUTH.
Madam, yea.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
And did thy will choose out thy way,
And didst thou love for flocks and herds,
And didst thou love who loved thee, say?

THE YOUTH.
Madam, I loved but for love's sake.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
Happily?

THE YOUTH.
Happily; in vain.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
Wouldst thou be free of love again?

THE YOUTH.
O Queen, how gladly would I take
Into my heart a tenfold pain!

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
Thou lovest well. I would love well.

THE HERALD.
Room for the King of Israel, bow
Your hearts and knees before him now;
Room for the King of Israel!

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
King of the Kings of earth, hail thou!

KING SOLOMON.
O Queen, in Sheba hast thou found
Among the groves of spice and myrrh
The honeyed wisdom lovelier
Upon thy moving lips than sound
Of psaltery or dulcimer?

THE QUEEN OE SHEBA.
O King, I have given up my youth
To wisdom, I have sought to find
The secret influences that bind
Star unto star, the grains of truth
Shredded in sand beneath the wind,
The secret dropping in the rain,
The secret hushed among the reeds
And huddled in the heart of weeds;
And I have called across the plain
Wise men whose words are more than deeds,
And I have listened to their speech,
And talked with those Arabians
Whose memory is more than man's,
And read with them the books that teach
The lore of the Egyptians.
And I have given up for this
The joy of love, and all the spring,
And all the garden blossoming
With scents of simple happiness,
And every sweet unthoughtful thing.
I have given up the joys of life
That I might find its secret; lo,
I have attained not even to know
Why, when thou comest near, the strife
That comes and goes and will not go
Out of my heart is strangely stilled.
O King, my wisdom unto thine
Is as a shadow, and no more mine;
Thou in whom wisdom is fulfilled,
Canst thou the word of life divine?
KING SOLOMON.
O Queen, I also have inquired,
And sought out wisdom patiently,
And if in all the world there be
More wisdom yet to be desired,
Wisdom is weariness to me.
For wisdom, being attained, but shows
That all things are but shadows cast
On running water, swiftly past,
And as the shadow of the rose
That withers in the mirror glassed.
What shall it profit me to have been
Yesterday happy, if to-day
I am sad, and where is yesterday?
What shall it profit me, O Queen,
When I am dead, and laid away
Under the earth, to have been wise,
To have lived long and ruled with might,
When all the ancient weight of night
Is as a burden on mine eyes,
And all the word is full of light?
There is one secret unto all:
Though life be fair or life forlorn,
Though men bow down to thee or scorn,
Howe'er fate fill the interval,
'Tis better not to have been born.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
O King, how then may we that live,
Best use the interval that waits
Between the closed and open gates?

How may we best, O King, forgive
For this sad gift the unfriendly fates?

KING SOLOMON.
Queen, we may love.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
Yet is not love,
As life, illusion?

KING SOLOMON.
Even so deep,
That this enchants into its sleep
Even them that know the secret of
The enchanted slumber that they keep.
Love only of illusions brings
The present to the present hour;
Wisdom and wealth and state and power
Promise the future, whose slow wings,
When we have reached it, do but shower
A little travelling dust on us
While groping in the dust we bow;
Love only is the eternal now,
Being of our frailty piteous.
When thou art I, and I am thou,
Time is no more; the heavy world,
As we among the lilies, we
Under the vine and almond tree,
Wake to that slumber, might be hurled
Into the void eternity,
And we not know. Beloved, come
Into the garden dim with spice;
Let us forget that we are wise,
And wisdom, though it be the sum
Of all but love, is love's disguise.
Let us forget all else that is,
Save this, that joy is ours to know,
A moment, ere he turn and go,
And that joy's moment, love, is this.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
Beloved, be it even so.

THE YOUTH.
He who has found all wisdom out
Is yet too wise to find out love;
His wisdom and the pride thereof
Is as a cloud folded about
The brightness of the sun above.
He does not know that love is breath
A man but breathes because he must;
A breath, a bondage, and a trust,
That knows not time, that knows not death,
That knows not love which is but lust,
Nor love which is but vain desire.
He, who is wisdom, does not see
It is from all eternity
Man loves that love which shall not tire
When heaven and earth have ceased to be.
She, for his moment, loves not him,
But wisdom; let him love, not her,
But love; I, waiting lonelier
Than even of old, watch out the dim
And shadowy days, that without stir
Into the dusk of years descend;
I wait, till heaven and earth being gone.
She comes to me to be my own
Until this love come to an end.
Bow down to me, O Solomon!





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