B. C. 2000
I KNEW thee then. Semiramis was Queen
Who stripped the foliage from the lettuce leaf
And asked Cambyses if he thought the green
More handsome, or the stalk — the barren sheaf.
Ah, those were cruel days! Men loved and killed
Their loves; and women hired assassins fell
To clear the path that, strong and stubborn-willed,
They wished to follow, were it ill or well.
Yet those were days of sweetness, too; I think
As sweet as any I have known thro' all
My many lives, since first upon the brink
Of Chaos standing, Eros heard my call
And led me trembling from the dread abyss,
Through forests scarce attained to leafy growth,
Nine days afar, to where the waters kiss
The setting sun and plight their nightly troth.
Thy hair was then the raven tint that now
Absorbs the light and gladdens with its glow
The eyes that 'neath a smooth uplifting brow
A deathless spirit, dauntless purpose show.
— Blue eyes were then unknown: they of the cold
And heartless North were bred, as toward the Pole
The earth grew warmer and the years grew old.
We were too soon for azure self-control!
Thy from the same: so slight, and yet not slight,
Save as the willow-branch the tempest bends
But cannot break, is slight. And, as her right,
The dwelling-place whence Grace her influence sends —
Her chosen palace, undivided throne!
And all the charm of manner and of mind —
The nameless atmosphere, distinctive, lone,
That those long years agone I found, I find.
I would that I might call again on Thought
To map before mine inward eye the scene
Of those fair years when we for Knowledge sought —
When I was still thy subject, thou the Queen!
Much would I thank the gods that know —
They of the Power — Ancient of the Days —
If once again the inky pool would show
The well-loved picture to my raptured gaze.
Yet still I am content — almost content —
To know, or even think I know, to thee
There strays a thought of those days fondly spent.
To know I knew Thee then — thou knewest Me!
Who stripped the foliage from the lettuce leaf
And asked Cambyses if he thought the green
More handsome, or the stalk — the barren sheaf.
Ah, those were cruel days! Men loved and killed
Their loves; and women hired assassins fell
To clear the path that, strong and stubborn-willed,
They wished to follow, were it ill or well.
Yet those were days of sweetness, too; I think
As sweet as any I have known thro' all
My many lives, since first upon the brink
Of Chaos standing, Eros heard my call
And led me trembling from the dread abyss,
Through forests scarce attained to leafy growth,
Nine days afar, to where the waters kiss
The setting sun and plight their nightly troth.
Thy hair was then the raven tint that now
Absorbs the light and gladdens with its glow
The eyes that 'neath a smooth uplifting brow
A deathless spirit, dauntless purpose show.
— Blue eyes were then unknown: they of the cold
And heartless North were bred, as toward the Pole
The earth grew warmer and the years grew old.
We were too soon for azure self-control!
Thy from the same: so slight, and yet not slight,
Save as the willow-branch the tempest bends
But cannot break, is slight. And, as her right,
The dwelling-place whence Grace her influence sends —
Her chosen palace, undivided throne!
And all the charm of manner and of mind —
The nameless atmosphere, distinctive, lone,
That those long years agone I found, I find.
I would that I might call again on Thought
To map before mine inward eye the scene
Of those fair years when we for Knowledge sought —
When I was still thy subject, thou the Queen!
Much would I thank the gods that know —
They of the Power — Ancient of the Days —
If once again the inky pool would show
The well-loved picture to my raptured gaze.
Yet still I am content — almost content —
To know, or even think I know, to thee
There strays a thought of those days fondly spent.
To know I knew Thee then — thou knewest Me!
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