ORIENT-BORN.
Reading edition
Beautiful olive-brown brows, chin where the fairy-print lies; Vagrant dark tresses above splendid mysterious eyes; Mellowest fires that glow under the calm of her face, Girl of all girls in the world for mould and for color and grace. Such are the opal-like maids that flash in the groves to and fro, Dancers Arabian; such, languorous ages ago, Ptolemy’s daughter; and so, breathing faint cassia and musk, Veilèd young Moors on divans, singing and sighing at dusk. Never in opiate dreams have I o’ertaken you, sweet; Never with henna-tipped hands; never with silken-shod feet; Still the love-charm of the East must over and over be told: By-and-by havoc with hearts!... Ah, slowly, my seven-year-old!