Page:Sonnetsfromcrime00mick.djvu/48

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ALUSHTA BY NIGHT

The drooping, weary day night pushed aside;
 On Tschatir Dagh the sullen sun and low
Paints phantom purple upon ancient snow;
 While forest ways within, the wanderers hide.
Night veils the mountains and the valleys wide;
 The thunderous brooks are dream-held, dulled, and slow;
Beneath the blackness fragrant flowers blow
 And rich leaf-music clothes each valley side.

Almost my waking eyes are dream-held too;
 With gold a meteor marks the deep-domed sky
And fountain-like the fiery sparks float by.
 Oh! Beauty of the Eastern Night, you woo
My spirit like the odalisque, who held
 Men captive till her kiss the dream dispelled!

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