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A poem by Laurence Hope |
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Story Of Udaipore: Told By Lalla-Ji, The Priest |
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Title: Story Of Udaipore: Told By Lalla-Ji, The Priest Author: Laurence Hope [More Titles by Hope] "And when the Summer Heat is great, The Coco palms stood tall and slim, against the golden-glow, She lay forgetful in the boat, and watched the dying Sun She saw the marble Temple walls long white reflections make, The evening air was very sweet; from off the island bowers "The Moghra flowers that smell so sweet The boat went drifting, uncontrolled, the rower rowed no more, The dying sunset touched with gold the Jasmin in his hair; And so persuasively he spoke, she could not say him nay, And all the youth awake in him, all love of Love in her, Combined together with the night in kind conspiracy "The Moghra flowers, the Moghra flowers, Low in the boat the lovers lay, and from his sable curls Oh, silver lake and silver night and tender silver sky! "The Moghra flowers, the Moghra flowers, Suddenly, frightened, she awoke, and waking vaguely saw The breeze grown chilly, swayed the palms; she heard, still half awake, She shivered, but she turned to kiss his soft, remembered face, But as her lips met his she paused, in terror and dismay, "Ah, Moghra flowers, white Moghra flowers, [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |