Lilatu Laili

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Lilatu Laili

At night on the radiant Rialto,

By the stars in their houses of glass,

I strolled with my soul in my pocket

And prayed that my night might not pass;

I have seen ’neath the high heels of Beauty

My heart and my soul and my shame;

That form! O, how often it lured me,

And how often I lost in the game!

And how often I walked in the shadow

Of a Laila a mile and a mile!

But the rapture and bliss of a vision

Would end in a great gush of bile.

To the hints that her garment would whisper

I have listened but I would not dare;

I have seen every one of my fancies

Retreat in the dark of her hair.

I have wished that each building around us

Was a cedar, a poplar, a pine;

That the men and the women were statues,

And the rain that was falling was wine;

That the lights were ethereal flowers;

That the cars were the nooks in the wood⁠—

“O, enough!” she exclaimed as she kissed me,

“This attic and couch are as good.”