THE TIGER-LILY.

A sultan proud and tawny

At elegant ease he stands,

With his bare throat brown and scrawny,

And his indolent, leaf-like hands.

And the eunuch tulips that listen

In their gaudy turbans so,

With their scimetar leaves that glisten,

Are guards of his seraglio;

Where sultana roses musky,

Voluptuous in houri charms,

With their bold breasts deep and dusky,

Impatiently wait his arms.

Tall, beautiful, sad, and slender,

His Greek-girl dancing slaves,

For the white-limbed lilies tender

His royal hand he waves.

While he watches them, softly smiling,

His favorite rose that hour

With a butterfly gallant is wiling

In her attar-scented bower.