Oracles

ANIMA LUNAE Written partly under the great rock Sigiri, partly in Arabia, near Aden. ZÔHRA the king by feathered fans Slept lightly through the mid-day heat. Swart giants with drawn yataghans Guard, standing at his head and feet, Zôhra, the mightiest of the khans ! Each slave Circassian like a moon Sits smiling, burning with young bloom Of dawn, and weaves an airy tune Like a white bird’s song bright and bold That dips a fiery plume. So the song lulled, lazily rolled In tubes of silver, lutes of gold ; And all that palace drowsed away The hours that fanned with silken fold The progress of the Lord of Day. Yet, as he slept, a grey Shadow of dream drew near, and stooped And glided through the ranks of slaves, Leaving no shadow where they drooped, No echo in the architraves As silent as the grave’s. II6