|       
|
Pine,
Rose and Fleur de Lis
by
Susie Frances Harrison
|
THE
VOYAGUER
|
|
Like
the swarthy son of some tropic shore
He sleeps,
with his olive bosom bar’d,
He sleeps—in his earrings of brassy ore.
Like a tawny tiger whom hot hours bore,
When
all night long he has growled and glar’d
|
5 |
| At the
swarthy son of some tropic shore,
Like a fierce-ey’d blossom with heart of
gore
That
too long in the sun-flush’d fields has flar’d,
He sleeps—in his earrings of brassy ore,
And his scarlet sash that he gaily wore
|
10 |
To
tempt Madelon—who his heart has snar’d,
Like the swarthy son of some tropic shore.
That dusky form might a queen adore—
Prenez
garde, Madelon, for a season spar’d,
He sleeps—in his earrings of brassy ore.
|
15 |
For a season only. What may be in store
For Madelon?
She who has never car’d!
* *
* *
* *
*
Like the swarthy son of some tropic shore
He sleeps—in his earrings of brassy ore.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
