Classic Poem

Whene'er I whirl thee in my fan, I see
Kaolin turrets and pagodas rise,
With lanterned kiosks that taper to the skies,
Where languid mandarins sip their perfumed tea.

The gongs of Pekin sound unto the sea,
The wooden cangue free from a victim lies,
And in a dream of wonder and surprise
The embattled walls of China tower up free.

Thou canst bring back to me the souvenir
Of eves when Nankin was begemmed with stars,
And when Love's summer blossomed in my blood;
Aye! when I walked with Tchâ without a fear,
And kissed in the dim glitter of bazaars
Her lips as sweet as hawthorn in the bud!