Stars of the Desert/Invitation to the Jungle
Invitation to the Jungle
The Jungle gloom is dim and cool,
And, even through the noonday heat,
Among the reeds beside the pool
The silent air is freshly sweet.
Though desert winds, sand-laden, pass,
And all the tree-tops bend and sigh,
No breezes stir the flower-filled grass
Beside the lake where we shall lie.
We shall not hear the Temple bells,
The tom-tom's sad insistent beat,
The far Bazaar, whose murmur swells
With eager cries and restless feet.
We shall not know the myriad cares
That make the Home's soft tyranny,
And all the Temple's lip-worn prayers,
Its ordered gifts, will pass us by.
Those lip-worn prayers; whose sense is lost
Effaced by long and tearful use,
By thousands daily skywards tost,
While still the God's reject,—refuse,—
Let others pay the reverence due
With waving lights and sacred flowers.
I pray no more except to you,
My faith is in this love of ours.
And I shall twine the Kuskus grass
To shield the thing I hold so dear.
What if the fierce-eyed Panthers pass?
I know their ways and have no fear.
The jungle is my native land
And love shall smooth its paths for you:
Ah, could I make you understand,
How well it is, this thing you do.
You leave the world, and passing by
Its tarnished gold and futile strife,
Gain freedom, love, the open sky,
The flowers upon the Tree of Life!