GENOESE MERCHANTS

THEY garnered wealth from far barbarian shores,

From Caffa, Tyre, and Trebizond,

And Tartar provinces beyond;

Furs, spices, oranges, and slaves.

High galleys waited, runged with tiers of oars,

And rippled their reflection in the waves.

Bearded and serge-clad merchants, tightly-lipped,

They stood in groups along the foreign quays

Watching the cargo shipped

By coloured sons of Asia; these

Groaned loaded up the planks, and rolled

Their burdens down the hold;

And back the planks unburdened nimbly tripped,

Their pumpkin-fluted turbans and their scarves

Ballooning as they swarmed upon the wharves.

And some old shaven brightly-plumaged priest,

Drowsing outside his mosque when shadows fall

Like lengthened lances pointing to the East,

From fourfold minaret,

And through the iron grating in the wall

The sun-flushed Himalaya guards Thibet,

— He, fat and somnolent,

Yawning amongst the pigeons’ sleek content,

Opened one crafty, long, Mongolian eye,

And saw the slim Italian passing by

With soft-foot tread

Into the mosque, but never raised his head,

And slipped his cedar beads, and never stirred

Though the quick patter of the coins he heard

Fall in a handful mixed of maize and rice

Flung to the pigeons, coins that were his price.

While far, in Europe, lay the Flemish fairs,

The marts of Ypres, the Jews of busy Thames

Greedy to clutch the unfamiliar gems,

And rummage in the bales of rich exotic wares.