Thou recallest those white days--with shadows caressed, Engendering tears from th' enraptured breast, When racked by an anguish unfathomed that weeps, The nerves, too awake, jibe the spirit that sleeps.
At times--thou art like those horizons divine, Where the suns of the nebulous seasons decline; How resplendent art thou--O pasturage vast, Illumed by the beams of a sky overcast!
O! dangerous dame--oh seductive clime! As well, will I love both thy snow and thy rime, And shall I know how from the frosts to entice Delights that are keener than iron and ice?
My sister, my dear Consider how fair, Together to live it would be! Down yonder to fly To love, till we die, In the land which resembles thee. Those suns that rise 'Neath erratic skies, --No charm could be like unto theirs-- So strange and divine, Like those eyes of thine Which glow in the midst of their tears.
There, all is order and loveliness, Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
The tables and chairs, Polished bright by the years, Would decorate sweetly our rooms, And the rarest of flowers Would twine round our bowers And mingle their amber perfumes: The ceilings arrayed, And the mirrors inlaid, This Eastern splendour among, Would furtively steal O'er our souls, and appeal With its tranquillous native tongue.
There, all is order and loveliness, Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
In the harbours, peep, At the vessels asleep (Their humour is always to roam), Yet it is but to grant Thy smallest want From the ends of the earth that they come, The sunsets beam Upon meadow and stream, And upon the city entire 'Neath a violet crest, The world sinks to rest, Illumed by a golden fire.
There, all is order and loveliness, Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
You are a roseate autumn-sky, that glows! Yet sadness rises in me like the flood, And leaves in ebbing on my lips morose, The poignant memory of its bitter mind.
In vain your hands my swooning breast embrace, Oh, friend! alone remains the plundered spot, Where woman's biting grip has left its trace: My heart, the beasts devoured--seek it not!
My heart is a palace pillaged by the herd; They kill and take each other by the throat! A perfume glides around your bosom bared--
O loveliness, thou scourge of souls--devote Thine eyes of fire--luminous-like feasts, To burn these rags--rejected by the beasts!