Hassan's Serenade

How splendid in the morning glows the lily; with what grace he throws His supplication to the rose: do roses nod the head, Yasmin? But when the silver dove descends I find the little flower of friends Whose very name that sweetly ends I say when I have said, 'Yasmin'. The morning light is clear and cold, I dare not in that light behold A deeper light, a deeper gold a glory too far shed, Yasmin. But when the deep red eye of day is level with the lone highway, And some to Mecca turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin, Or when the wind beneath the moon is dazzling like a soul aswoon, And harping planets talk love's tune with milky wings outspread, Yasmin, Shine down thy love, O burning bright! for one night or the other night Will come the Gardener in white, and gather'd flowers are dead, Yasmin!