DEEP on the bosom of Jeel-Begzad (Darling daughter of stern Bidar) Sleeps the rose of her lover lad. It brings this word: When the zenith-star Melts in the full moon's rising light, Then shall her Giaour come -- to-night. What is the odor that fills her room? Ah! 't is the dream of the sleeping rose; To feel his lips near its velvet bloom In the secret shadow no moonbeam knows, Till the maiden passion within her breast Kindles to flame where the kisses rest. By the stealthy fingers of old Bidar (Savage father of Jeel-Begzad) Never bloodless in peace or war Was a handjar sheathed; and each one had Graved on its handle a Koran prayer -- He can feel it now, in his ambush there! The moon rides pale in the quiet night; It puts out the stars, but never the gleam Of the waiting blade's foreboding light, Astir in its sheath in a horrid dream Of pain, of blood, and of gasping breath, Of the thirst of vengeance drenched in death. . . . The dawn did the dream of the rose undo, But the dream of the sleeping blade came true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVELATION AT CAP FERRAT by CLARENCE MAJOR SORROW SINGERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |