TO LATAKIA.

NZ Truth, Issue 87, 16 February 1907, Page 7

TO LATAKIA.

' * ■ i. When all the panes are hung with frost, Wild wizard-work of silver lace, I draw my sofa. on the rue. Before the ancient chimney-place. Upon the painted tiles are mosaues ♦ And minarets, and here and there A blue muezzin lifts his' hands And calls the faithful unto prayer. Folded m idle twilight dreams, I hear the hemlock chirp and sing As if within its ruddy core If held the happy heart of Spring. Ferdousi never sang like that, Nor Saadi grave* nor Hafiz gay ; I lounge, and blow white rings of smoke, And watch them rise and float away. The curling wreaths like turbans' seem, Of silent slafes that come and go— Or Viziers, packed with craft and crime, Whom I behead from time to time, With pipe-stem, at a single blow.' And now and then a lingering cloud Takes nracious form at mv desire, And at mv side mv lady stands, ■! Unwinds her veil wi f h snowy hands— A shadowy shape, a breath of fire ! -T; B. Aldrieh: