The Date-garden
I dreamt last night you were mine indeed,
And I prayed the dream to stay,
But this world of ours with reckless haste
Rushed on to another day.
I thought we slept on the Desert sands,
Where the old date-gardens lie,
And a golden mist of quivering stars
Was scattered across the sky.
There, in the limitless silences,
Where only the jackals live,
You were kind to me as you are not kind,
And gave what you will not give.
And when the hands were fallen apart,
And the longing lips grown loth,
A little wind from under the stars
Came down and caressed us both.
Then, leaning against your heart, I said
Ah, it were a lovely thing
If from this blossoming time of ours
Some flower of life should spring.
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