A FAREWELL FROM THE HAREM

By Gilbert Parker

Take thou thy flight, O soul! Thou hast no more

The gladness of the morning: ah, the perfumed roses

My love laid on my bosom as I slept!

How did he wake me with his lips upon mine eyes,

How did the singers carol, the singers of my soul,

That nest among the thoughts of my beloved!

All silent now, the choruses are gone,

The windows of my soul are closed; no more

Mine eyes look gladly out to see my lover come.

There is no more to do, no more to say

Take flight, my soul, my love returns no more!