Were compassed in the witch's mouth;--
He thought the scarlet lips of her
More precious than En Gedi's myrrh,
The lips of that Sabean girl;

By many an amorous sun caressed,
From lifted brow to amber breast
She gleamed in vivid loveliness--
And lithe as any leopardess--
And verily, one blames thee not
If thine own proverbs were forgot,
O Solomon, wise Solomon!

She danced for him, and surely she
Learnt dancing from some moonlit sea

Where elfin vapors swirled and swayed
While the wild pipes of witchcraft played
Such clutching music 'twould impel
A prophet's self to dance to hell--
So spun the light Sabean girl.

He swore her laughter had the lilt
Of chiming waters that are spilt
In sprays of spurted melody
From founts of carven porphyry,
And in the billowy turbulence
Of her dusk hair drowned soul and sense--
Dark tides and deep, O Solomon!