Passion Flowers (Watson)/A Twist of Tobacco
A Twist of Tobacco.
From plains of Araby the Blest,
Through Inde, the lotus-land of rest,
O'er sunny Spain, each on its quest,
The breezes go.
Through Inde, the lotus-land of rest,
O'er sunny Spain, each on its quest,
The breezes go.
A secret on the pulsing wings,
With odors laden'd—wondrous things—
Each breeze from haunts elysian brings
Upon its mission.
With odors laden'd—wondrous things—
Each breeze from haunts elysian brings
Upon its mission.
Now fields of emerald flitting o'er,
They loose their rare and precious store
Of spices, sweets, and mystic lore,
Where leaflets wait.
They loose their rare and precious store
Of spices, sweets, and mystic lore,
Where leaflets wait.
The secret theirs—I may not tell—
The crumpled leaves have kept it well;
It lies within each dusky cell
So safe enfolded.
The crumpled leaves have kept it well;
It lies within each dusky cell
So safe enfolded.
But in the hazy rings that rise
Above the dreamful, tranquil eyes
Of him on whom its power lies
May be discerned
Above the dreamful, tranquil eyes
Of him on whom its power lies
May be discerned
Dim outlines of the castles fair,
Where dwell magicians of the air,
Who grant the gifts the breezes bear
These blessed leaves.
Where dwell magicians of the air,
Who grant the gifts the breezes bear
These blessed leaves.
Some secret every heart doth hold,
And roses, lilies, violets fold
Each with its sweets what hath been told
To it alone.
And roses, lilies, violets fold
Each with its sweets what hath been told
To it alone.