POETRY.
MOSQUE'S THRESHOLD.
A COMMON woman of the ashamed East,
lirermilion'd, henna'd, filthy, and unchaste, Sat in the dust o' the vulture-cleansed bazaar With her brown weanling, filthy eke and sore : Oblivious sat of oaths and angers sped Betwixt two hucksters wrangling o'er her head, Kissing the child, a lover never tired, Gazing, as one that ne'er before admired; Her look fixed only on its duller eyes, She kissed it with love's fever of surmise, With the long, long kiss of lovers that must part, With strained hush of the wild-guessing heart, With passion endless as the deserts lie
Which the slow files of lofty camels pace—
The trembling sands athirst from sky to sky.
The little one look'd alway in her face, And in brief pauses of that long embrace With its small fingers on her neck doth press, Leaning forth eager to each hot caress. And when above them (for the sun was set) A voice from the dove-mantled minaret Enjoined mosque-worship,—past the unconscious pair The solemn Musulmano moved in to prayer.
F. H. TRENCH.
Previous page
