Poems (Argent)/The Orchard of Palms
THE ORCHARD OF PALMS.
"By the lake of sweet waters, under the palms of the Orchard of Palms."—"Ben-Hur."
THE garden land of Antioch, Beyond compare,Is beautiful with trailing vines In clusters fair,
Which yield a shade to passer-by And grateful restFrom gleaming sun and noon-day heat On tired breast.
Past melon-patches, fig-tree groves And scented lime;Where oranges and lemons thrive In that soft clime.
The cedars of sweet Lebanon Their boughs droop down,The traveller can their heads discern O'er hill and town.
The glorious oak and sycamore, With myrtle, bay,Arbutus, jessamine, perfume The air each day.
And through the slanting sunlight runs The river bright,Crowned with a lustrous pyramid Of starry light.
And ships in endless motion glide With rarest freight,Like white swans floating side by side In regal state!
Close underfoot the tender grass Of vivid green,Far famed in Syria throughout Each varied scene.
The Syrian sky in hazy warmth, O'er land and sea,Scatters a thousand purple hues Unceasingly.
Surpassing beautiful the fields And birds of song,That warble in enchanted groves The whole day long,
Through sunny gardens where the spray Of fountains drip Their cooling waters on the ear And brow and lip.
The orchard of the spreading palms Opens to view,Magnificently beneath the sky Of Syrian blue!
The docile camels stoop to drink, With bended head,In the pellucid lake that winds By grassy bed.
Here soars the palm with lofty crest And brave and bold,So broad of branch, so wide of girth, And years untold.
Each branch is perfected with fronds Plumy and soft:Wax-like and brilliant high they stand And wave aloft!
Heavy with luscious dates, they drop Their manna sweet,Throwing both food and shelter round The traveller's feet.
What magic lingers in a palm! The Eastern worldUnfolds before one's gaze, as flags With awe unfurled!