Ere long across the marble court
Soft laughter rang and calls of sport,
And maidens pass’d the entering gate,
Whose voices rose in sweet debate,
So clear, so pure, they might have sprung
From moonlight, not from mortal tongue.
I lay there charm’d, my eyelids closed,
My limbs enchain’d; but, ere I dozed,
Gave one look more. Alas for me!
The moon had moved, and made me see,
In dreamlike light where slept the day,
Vague forms that join’d those maids at play.
They linger’d there, half hid by trees
And sprawling cactus; now at ease,
Now whirling off in shadowy sets
Where urged guitars[2] and castonets.[2]
Anon, this music rose and fell,
As if, because, all fill’d so well,
So laden down with sweets before,
The languid air could hold no more.
“Ah, how could it or I?” I thought;
“This land of lasting spring is fraught
With charms that pale by living truth
The brightest dreams that lured my youth.”
Then, while the music heaved my breast,
The thought it cradled sank to rest.