Page:Poems Jackson.djvu/309

I am unworthy: master hands
Should strike the chords, and fill the lands
From sea to sea with melody
All reverent, yet with harmony
Majestic, jubilant, to tell
How love must love, if love loves well;
How once incarnate love was found
On earth, dishonored, martyr-crowned,
Crowned by a heathen woman's name,—
O blessed Boon, of peerless fame!
In Siam's court the Buddhist King
Held festival. Fair girls to sing,
And dance, and play, were led between
Close ranks of Amazons in green
And gold. In chariot milk-white
Of ivory, and glittering bright
With flowers garlanded, rode Choy,
The young, the beautiful; with joy
And subtle pride no words could tell,
Her virgin bosom rose and fell.
No dream the Siam maiden knew
More high or blest than that which grew
In Choy's poor blinded heart,—to be
The favorite of the King, and see
The other wives beneath her feet.
From babyhood, that this was sweet
The child was taught. How should she know
They told her false, and worked her woe!

The song, the dance, the play, were done,
Choy's fatal triumph had been won.
The old king's bleared and lustful eyes