Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/178

" Something not alien quite
To tender ruth, perchance their breast shall fill,
Seeing him that was so mobile grown so still,
The fiery-veined so white.

" And when the dance is o’er,
The pinched guitar, the smitten tambourine,
Have ceased their rhythmic beat,—oh, friends of mine,
On my rich bier, then pour

" The garlands that ye wear,
The happy rose that on your bosom breathes,
The fresh-culled clusters and the dewy wreaths
That crown your fragrant hair.

" Though blind, I still shall see,
Though dead, shall feel your presence and shall know,
I who was beauty s life-long slave, shall so
Win her in death to me.

" Thanks, sisters, and farewell!
Back to your joys. My brother shall make room
For my tried sword upon the high-piled bloom,
And fire the pinnacle.

" My soul, pure flame, shall leap
To meet its parent essence once again.