BRIC-A-BRAC

Was I a Samurai renowned,

Two-sworded, fierce, immense of bow?

A histrion angular and profound?

A priest? a porter?— Child, although

I have forgotten clean, I know

That in the shade of Fujisan,

What time the cherry-orchards blow,

I loved you once in old Japan.

As here you loiter, flowing-gowned

And hugely sashed, with pins a-row

Your quaint head as with flamelets crowned,

Demure, inviting — even so,

When merry maids in Miyako

To feel the sweet o’ the year began,

And green gardens to overflow,

I loved you once in old Japan.

Clear shine the hills; the rice-fields round

Two cranes are circling; sleepy and slow,

A blue canal the lake's blue bound

Breaks at the bamboo bridge; and lo!

Touched with the sundown's spirit and glow,

I see you turn, with flirted fan,

Against the plum-tree's bloomy snow...

I loved you once in old Japan!