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Alan Seeger

The Sultan’s Palace

My spirit only lived to look on Beauty's face,
    As only when they clasp the arms seem served aright;
As in their flesh inheres the impulse to embrace,
    To gaze on Loveliness was my soul's appetite.

I have roamed far in search; white road and plunging bow
    Were keys in the blue doors where my desire was set;
Obedient to their lure, my lips and laughing brow
    The hill-showers and the spray of many seas have wet.

Hot are enamored hands, the fragrant zone unbound,
    To leave no dear delight unfelt, unfondled o'er,
The will possessed my heart to girdle Earth around
    With their insatiate need to wonder and adore.

The flowers in the fields, the surf upon the sands,
    The sunset and the clouds it turned to blood and wine,
Were shreds of the thin veil behind whose beaded strands
    A radiant visage rose, serene, august, divine.

A noise of summer wind astir in starlit trees,
    A song where sensual love's delirium rose and fell,
Were rites that moved my soul more than the devotee's
    When from the blazing choir rings out the altar bell.

I woke amid the pomp of a proud palace; writ
    In tinted arabesque on walls that gems o'erlay,
The names of caliphs were who once held court in it,
    Their baths and bowers were mine to dwell in for a day.

Their robes and rings were mine to draw from shimmering trays —
    Brocades and broidered silks, topaz and tourmaline —
Their turban-cloths to wind in proud capricious ways,
    And fasten plumes and pearls and pendent sapphires in.

I rose; far music drew my steps in fond pursuit
    Down tessellated floors and towering peristyles:
Through groves of colonnades fair lamps were blushing fruit,
    On seas of green mosaic soft rugs were flowery isles.

And there were verdurous courts that scalloped arches wreathed,
    Where fountains plashed in bowls of lapis lazuli.
Through enigmatic doors voluptuous accents breathed,
    And having Youth I had their Open Sesame.

I paused where shadowy walls were hung with cloths of gold,
    And tinted twilight streamed through storied panes above.
In lamplit alcoves deep as flowers when they unfold
    Soft cushions called to rest and fragrant fumes to love.

I hungered; at my hand delicious dainties teemed —
    Fair pyramids of fruit; pastry in sugared piles.
I thirsted; in cool cups inviting vintage beamed —
    Sweet syrups from the South; brown muscat from the isles.

I yearned for passionate Love; faint gauzes fell away.
    Pillowed in rosy light I found my heart's desire.
Over the silks and down her florid beauty lay,
    As over orient clouds the sunset's coral fire.

Joys that had smiled afar, a visionary form,
    Behind the ranges hid, remote and rainbow-dyed,
Drew near unto my heart, a wonder soft and warm,
    To touch, to stroke, to clasp, to sleep and wake beside.

Joy, that where summer seas and hot horizons shone
    Had been the outspread arms I gave my youth to seek,
Drew near; awhile its pulse strove sweetly with my own,
    Awhile I felt its breath astir upon my cheek.

I was so happy there; so fleeting was my stay, —
    What wonder if, assailed with vistas so divine,
I only lived to search and sample them the day
    When between dawn and dusk the sultan's courts were mine!

Speak not of other worlds of happiness to be,
    As though in any fond imaginary sphere
Lay more to tempt man's soul to immortality
    Than ripens for his bliss abundant now and here!

Flowerlike I hope to die as flowerlike was my birth.
    Rooted in Nature's just benignant law like them,
I want no better joys than those that from green Earth
    My spirit's blossom drew through the sweet body's stem.

I see no dread in death, no horror to abhor.
    I never thought it else than but to cease to dwell
Spectator, and resolve most naturally once more
    Into the dearly loved eternal spectacle.

Unto the fields and flowers this flesh I found so fair
    I yield; do you, dear friend, over your rose-crowned wine,
Murmur my name some day as though my lips were there,
    And frame your mouth as though its blushing kiss were mine.

Yea, where the banquet-hall is brilliant with young men,
    You whose bright youth it might have thrilled my breast to know,
Drink ... and perhaps my lips, insatiate even then
    Of lips to hang upon, may find their loved ones so.

Unto the flush of dawn and evening I commend
    This immaterial self and flamelike part of me, —
Unto the azure haze that hangs at the world's end,
    The sunshine on the hills, the starlight on the sea, —

Unto angelic Earth, whereof the lives of those
    Who love and dream great dreams and deeply feel may be
The elemental cells and nervules that compose
    Its divine consciousness and joy and harmony.

About the poet

Alan SeegerAlan Seeger
1888-1916

 
By the same poet
Juvenilia
An Ode to Natural Beauty
The Deserted Garden
The Torture of Cuauhtemoc
The Nympholept
The Wanderer
The Need to Love
El Extraviado
La Nue
All That's Not Love...
Paris
Fragments
Thirty Sonnets
Sonnet I
Sonnet II
Sonnet III
Sonnet IV
Sonnet V
Sonnet VI
Sonnet VII
Sonnet VIII
Sonnet IX
Sonnet X
Sonnet XI
Sonnet XII
Sonnet XIII
Sonnet XIV
Sonnet XV
Sonnet XVI
Kyrenaikos
Antinous
Vivien
I Loved...
Virginibus Puerisque...
With a Copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets on Leaving College
Written in a Volume of the Comtesse de Noailles
Coucy
Tezcotzinco
The Old Lowe House, Staten Island
Oneata
On the Cliffs, Newport
To England at the Outbreak of the Balkan War
At the Tomb of Napoleon Before the Elections in America—November, 1912
The Rendezvous
Do You Remember Once...
The Bayadere
Eudæmon
Broceliande
Lyonesse
Tithonus
An Ode to Antares
Translations
Dante. Inferno, Canto XXVI
Ariosto. Orlando Furioso, Canto X, 91-99
On a Theme in the Greek Anthology
After an Epigram of Clement Marot
Last Poems
The Aisne (1914-15)
Champagne (1914-15)
The Hosts
Maktoob
I Have a Rendezvous with Death...
Sonnets
Sonnet I
Sonnet II
Sonnet III
Sonnet IV
Sonnet V
Sonnet VI
Sonnet VII
Sonnet VIII
Sonnet IX
Sonnet X
Sonnet XI
Sonnet XII
Bellinglise
Liebestod
Resurgam
A Message to America
Introduction and Conclusion of a Long Poem
Ode in Memory of the American Volunteers Fallen for France
 
Related books
Alan Seeger at amazon.co.uk

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