To A Rose Jar
Fair chalice in your spicy store
The roses seem to blow
And childhood’s simple faith restore
In legend’s long ago;
Such as the Arab’s jewelled prose
Where Genii from the bottle rose
The magician’s command obeyed
And at his feet whole kingdoms laid.
From odorous depths I summon thee
O spirit of the past!
Weave all your spells of fantasy
And may your visions last.
Bring to my ear the murmuring breeze
The drowsy, far off hum of bees,
Unfolding to my raptured gaze
Those scenes beloved, of olden days.
Once more within this scented gloom
Forgotten sunbeams rest
On hedges drooped with odorous bloom
By blushing lips caressed.
Those roses faded with the dusk -
Her lips grew cold, but fixed in musk
The fragrance lingers - and her eyes
Do they smile down from Paradise?
Prophetic incense, subtly rare,
O may I understand
The poignant messages you bear
From Memory’s holy land
For petals torn from withered stems
Have filled this treasure casque with gems
And their sweet perfume brings to me
A hint of immortality.