III

Have ye gazed on its grandeur Or stood where it stands With opal and amber Adorning the lands,

And orcharded domes Of the hue of all flowers? Sweet melody roams Through its blossoming bowers,

Sweet bells usher in from its belfries the train of the honey-sweet hour. A city resplendent, Fulfilled of good things, On its ramparts are pendent

The bucklers of kings. Broad banners unfurled Are afloat in its air. The lords of the world

Look for harborage there. None finds save he comes as a bridegroom, having roses and vine in his hair. ‘ Tis the city of Lovers, There many paths meet.

Blessed he above others, With faltering feet, Who past its proud spires Intends not nor hears

The noise of its lyres Grow faint in his ears! Men reach it through portals of triumph, but leave through a postern of tears. It was thither, ambitious,

We came for Youth's right, When our lips yearned for kisses As moths for the light, When our souls cried for Love

As for life-giving rain Wan leaves of the grove, Withered grass of the plain, And our flesh ached for Love-flesh beside it with bitter, intolerable pain.

Under arbor and trellis, Full of flutes, full of flowers, What mad fortunes befell us, What glad orgies were ours!

In the days of our youth, In our festal attire, When the sweet flesh was smooth, When the swift blood was fire,

And all Earth paid in orange and purple to pavilion the bed of Desire!