To A Rose Jar

Fair chalice in your spicy store The roses seem to blow And childhood’s simple faith restore In legend’s long ago; Such as the Arab’s jewelled prose Where Genii from the bottle rose The magician’s command obeyed And at his feet whole kingdoms laid. From odorous depths I summon thee O spirit of the past! Weave all your spells of fantasy And may your visions last. Bring to my ear the murmuring breeze The drowsy, far off hum of bees, Unfolding to my raptured gaze Those scenes beloved, of olden days. Once more within this scented gloom Forgotten sunbeams rest On hedges drooped with odorous bloom By blushing lips caressed. Those roses faded with the dusk - Her lips grew cold, but fixed in musk The fragrance lingers - and her eyes Do they smile down from Paradise? Prophetic incense, subtly rare, O may I understand The poignant messages you bear From Memory’s holy land For petals torn from withered stems Have filled this treasure casque with gems And their sweet perfume brings to me A hint of immortality.