On which to build a wonder-dream
Of that far town which, half asleep
And half a myth,
Lies 'neath the crescent's golden gleam.
Of that far town which, half asleep
And half a myth,
Lies 'neath the crescent's golden gleam.
I see Bokhara's minarets
Like sentries o'er the house-tops stand,
And far away the dropping sky
Melt in the desert's rippled sand.
Through silence born of noonday heat
And swooning radiance of the air
I hear, from high muezzin tower
Like conscience-cry,
The Moslem's solemn call to prayer.
Like sentries o'er the house-tops stand,
And far away the dropping sky
Melt in the desert's rippled sand.
Through silence born of noonday heat
And swooning radiance of the air
I hear, from high muezzin tower
Like conscience-cry,
The Moslem's solemn call to prayer.
And quick unrolling this bright rug
I see its owner spread it down
Where'er he stands—in porch or street—
And turn his face toward Mecca's town.
On this straight line of woven flame
His knees by Allah's law must rest;
His feet and hands these squares must touch,
And in this niche
Of softened hues his brow be pressed.
I see its owner spread it down
Where'er he stands—in porch or street—
And turn his face toward Mecca's town.
On this straight line of woven flame
His knees by Allah's law must rest;
His feet and hands these squares must touch,
And in this niche
Of softened hues his brow be pressed.
And prostrate thus, he makes his plea
To Allah five times e'er the sun,
A flaming chariot through the sky,
Its course from dawn to dusk has run.
This much I see with half-shut eyes,
To Allah five times e'er the sun,
A flaming chariot through the sky,
Its course from dawn to dusk has run.
This much I see with half-shut eyes,
27
