Classic Poem

Where fierce the surge with awful bellow
Doth ever lash the rocky wall,
And where the moon most brightly mellow
Doth beam when mists of evening fall;
Where midst his harem's countless blisses
The Moslem spends his vital span,
A sorceress there with gentle kisses
Presented me a Talisman.

And said: " Until thy latest minute
Preserve, preserve my Talisman;
A secret power it holds within it, —
'T was love, true love the gift did plan.
From pest on land or death on ocean
When hurricanes its surface fan,
O object of my fond devotion!
Thou scap'st not by my Talisman.

" The gem in eastern mine which slumbers,
Or ruddy gold 't will not bestow;
'T will not subdue the turbanned numbers
Before the Prophet's shrine which bow;
Nor high through air on friendly pinions
Can bear thee swift to home or clan,
From mournful climes or strange dominions,
From South to North, — my Talisman.

" But oh! when crafty eyes thy reason
With sorceries sudden seek to move,
And when in night's mysterious season
Lips cling to thine, — but not in love, —
From proving then, dear youth, a booty
To those who falsely would trepan,
From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
Protect thee shall my Talisman. "