Book 3 — FOUR SONGS FROM "THE PRINCE OF ORMUZ"

When she kisses me with her lips, I become A Roc, that giant, that fabulous bird And over the desert, vast, yellow, and dumb, I wheel, and my jubilant screaming is heard, A voice, an echo, high up and glad, Over the domes and green pools of Bagdad. But when she kisses me with her eyes, My heart melts in me; she is my sun; She strokes my snow; I am loosed, I arise: A brook of water I run, I run, Crystal water, sunny and sweet, Laughing and weeping to fawn at her feet. Lawford, Easter, 1914.

My rose, or ever the three tears were shed I wished lie in its bosom, has fallen apart; Off their knapped golden hair all my pure pearls have sped Before their mid-ruby could burn on my heart. To-day is as yesterday; as to-day so to-morrow; But fallen my rose, pearls, tears, Fallen in sorrow. Or ever I woke it was sunset to-day; As fast flows the fountain, as fast flows away, As fast fall away My rose and my tears, my pearls and my sorrow. In Hospital, January, 1916.

The look in thine eyes can change me utterly; Thine eyes challenge: my heart is lighted, I am thy taper, I burn straight-pointed— Ay, even so doing I waste away. Bathe me in thy calm eyes' soft glances; I am thy slave, I bow, I worship; Bid me to steal, and I will steal gladly: Ah! bid me not, thou robbest my manhood. Let thine eyes smile: change comes upon me, I put forth blossoms, flowers of my passion, Roses crimson, alas! whose petals, Once white, now blush with blood of my heart. Gaze not on me: I burn, I perish; Gaze not on me: I am thy servant; Gaze not on me: I sink a-bleeding; Yet gaze! I cannot otherwise live. Lawford, Easter, 1914.

I have poured my wine into a gold cup, I have plucked my roses, unfastened the stone From my bosom. Thou mayest drink my red wine up, Or spill where my jewel and roses are thrown. The golden-globed night deepens quickly over Me, afraid under its curtains. The spheres Stare. O gather me swiftly, my lover; Make me forget and forgive me these tears. Lawford, Easter, 1914.