Three Golden Threads (After de Lisle.)
Like yonder swallow, I would soar away,—
Above the sea, far from this buzzing mart ;
But how can I? A cruel, little fay
Has fettered with three golden threads my heart.
Her honeyed tongue the one ; her eyes the other ;
The third her lips ; and that completes her art.
No fruits from other gardens can I gather,
For she has tied with golden threads my heart.
O, how I would asunder rend my chain,
And from the tears and pangs of love depart ;
Ah, no! ’tis better that I die in pain
Than break the golden threads of my poor heart.
From Myrtle and Myrrh (The Gorham Press, 1905) by Ameen Rihani. This poem is in the public domain.