Collected Poems 1901-1918 in Two Volumes - Volume II. by Walter De la Mare
page 7 of 74 (09%)
page 7 of 74 (09%)
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If I were Lord of Tartary,
Trumpeters every day To every meal should summon me, And in my courtyard bray; And in the evening lamps would shine, Yellow as honey, red as wine, While harp, and flute, and mandoline, Made music sweet and gay. If I were Lord of Tartary, I'd wear a robe of beads, White, and gold, and green they'd be-- And clustered thick as seeds; And ere should wane the morning-star, I'd don my robe and scimitar, And zebras seven should draw my car Through Tartary's dark glades. Lord of the fruits of Tartary, Her rivers silver-pale! Lord of the hills of Tartary, Glen, thicket, wood, and dale! Her flashing stars, her scented breeze, Her trembling lakes, like foamless seas, Her bird-delighting citron-trees In every purple vale! |
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