Companioned from the ivory halls of morn
With unimaginable melody,
She stoops, and squanders on the lips of me
Her tresses yellow as the tranquil corn
That gleams through eager solstices unshorn.
Linked with her lucid arms an urn I see,
Where wicked rubies wink malignantly
'Mid wistful roses that a queen has worn,
Gules-shadowed like the scarlet heart of guilt.
I read the sad assent within her eyes,
Ah me! These petals keep my life-blood, spilt
What time beneath hell-litten Assyrian skies
I heard the Persians howl, "Bel-Marduk dies, "
And felt their savage daggers to the hilt!