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.

Credit

From Myrtle and Myrrh (The Gorham Press, 1905) by Ameen Rihani. This poem is in the public domain.