LIFE OR LOVE.
"Oh, world so beautiful, could we hide
Somewhere in your flowers from death?"
A wandering voice in a palace sighed,
Where the East-rose draws her breath.
Somewhere in your flowers from death?"
A wandering voice in a palace sighed,
Where the East-rose draws her breath.
"Ah, jewels have passed through yon fires of mine,
Worth Persia ten times told;
And the essence that makes our dust divine
Is here in this cup of gold:"
Worth Persia ten times told;
And the essence that makes our dust divine
Is here in this cup of gold:"
And the Master knelt with a beard that rushed
To his feet like a storm of snow.
But Youth in his bosom yearned and flushed,
And Youth in his voice spake low.
To his feet like a storm of snow.
But Youth in his bosom yearned and flushed,
And Youth in his voice spake low.
Yet the queen lay dark on the gorgeous floor,
With her eyes hid in her hair.
"Should she lift her face from the dust any more,"
They moaned, "it will not be fair:
With her eyes hid in her hair.
"Should she lift her face from the dust any more,"
They moaned, "it will not be fair:
"All night, with the moon, she watches and weeps;
No song in her ear is sweet,
No song in her ear is sweet,
