Classic Poem

Mighty Bera, no one raises
Unto thee the praise of praises;
Every day thy people hail thee
With the songs that are the same.
With no blame dare they assail thee,
Or with merry meaning flail thee,
And the gods in wrath forsake them in their unprolific shame!

I will sing thy praises splendid,
Which on earth have never ended;
I will tell the tribes in wonder
Of thy prowesses unknown;
I will prove, and without blunder,
That above the stars or under
There are none who boast the glories that to thee belong alone!

Are there in thy cities many
Happy, valiant soldiers, any
Who can smoothe the perfumed tresses
Of a lithe and brawny slave,
And with rapturous caresses
Wear his spirit by excesses,
As thou canst, oh, wondrous master! when strong passions in thee rave?

Are there any monarchs near thee,
Who implore thee and who fear thee,
Who can tire in soft prostration
The dark maidens of the town,
With such fleshly adulation,
With such virile animation,
As thine own, oh, haughty monarch! of all terror and renown?

No! thou art alone, oh master!
And my praises, swelling faster,
Must as god of gods acclaim thee
In the splendor of thy loins;
For no draining love can tame thee,
Nor can lover's deeds ashame thee,
When a fever with sweet passion in thy robust bosom joins!

Thou art God, supreme and holy,
To be loved and worshiped solely,
For thy breast is filled with gladness
And thine eyes all foes destroy!
In thy flesh there is no badness,
No corruption, and no sadness,
And the offal of thy body is a perfume and a joy!
Loud swelled the laughter, and the cymbals clashed;
The puissant king made sign, and to them came
Nude girls with starry eyes and scented hair,
Dancing in dreamy posturings, that made
The wine-warm bosoms of the kings expand,
And cry aloud: " Bel! thou alone art great! "
Their eyes grew lustrous, for the Sodom drugs
Had breathed hot poison in their slavish veins,
And, to the sound of titillating lutes,
King Shinab rose in ecstasy's first throe,
Clasping a maiden in his close embrace;
And haughty Birsha, great Gomorrah's king,
Chose for his own an Ardavitish slave,
Whose limbs were like great serpents coiled in flesh;
And in a wanton slumber Sodom's king
Lay, languid, in the smiling Ashcar's arms,
While high in utter heaven the tranquil stars
Shed streams of silver on the illumined town,
Crowning with light the insolent debauch,
And, as the mighty monarchs swooned and writhed
In joys ineffable, from the open courts
Arose the voices, on the bastions near,
Of bearded soldiers singing to the moon: