The mighty mountain flings its mist-veil down; With little flowers the gracious fields are bright, And from the forest colors flash to sight Like gems that drop from off a Calif's crown....
The drooping, weary day night pushed aside; On Tschatir Dagh the sullen sun and low Paints phantom purple upon ancient snow; While forest ways within, the wanderers hide....
In ruin are the spacious, splendid halls With frozen forest of white columns where The Tartar Khan his palace builded fair, Where loneliest the shrilling cricket calls. The ivy blackens over shining walls...
From out the mosques the pious wend their way; Muezzin voices tremble through the night; Within the sky the pallid King of Light Wraps silvered ermine round him while he may,...
Give wings unto the storm, and spurs to steed, I'd move unchained as wind across the world, Sweep onward like a torrent mountain-hurled, Nor sea, nor height, nor valley pause to heed....
The flag is listless, limp. It dances not. As deep the sea breathes from a gentle breast As any bride who dreams at love's behest, And wakes and sighs, then casts with dreams her lot....
What would Great Allah with the frozen sea? Would he of icy clouds a throne carve bright, Or would the demons of the deepest night A bar build where the shining stars sweep free?...
On Juda's Cliff I love to lean and look On waves that battling beat and break with might, While farther seaward in a bland delight, I see them shining where a rainbow shook....
Across sea-meadows measureless I go, My wagon sinking under grass so tall The flowery petals in foam on me fall, And blossom-isles float by I do not know. No pathway can the deepening twilight show;...
In Spring of love and life, My Polish Rose, You faded and forgot the joy of youth; Bright butterfly, it brushed you, then left ruth Of bitter memory that stings and glows....
They sleep well here whom Allah loved and kept And treasured in his vineyard fair and fine, Most lustrous of the Orient pearls that shine, Which youth found where the waves of passion swept....
Pray! Pray! Let loose the bridle. Look not down! The humble horse alone has wisdom here. He knows where blackest the abysses leer And where the path in safety leads us down....
Oh, thankless Crimean land! in ruin laid Are now the castles that were once your pride! Here serpents and the owls from daylight hide, And robbers arm them for the nightly raid....
The reverent Mussulman bends low to greet You, Tschatir Dagh, Crimea's bright-masted ship! World-altar,--minaret--the place where dip Down stairs from golden Heaven for the feet!...
Below me half a world I see outspread; Above, blue heaven; around, peaks of snow; And yet the happy pulse of life is slow, I dream of distant places, pleasures dead. The woods of Lithuania I would tread...