Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/151

 HEN Queen Djenira slumbers through
 * The sultry noon's repose,

From out her dreams, as soft she lies,
 * A faint thin music flows.

Her lovely hands lie narrow and pale
 * With gilded nails, her head

Couched in its banded nets of gold
 * Lies pillowed on her bed.

The little Nubian boys who fan
 * Her cheeks and tresses clear,

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful voices
 * Seem afar to hear.

They slide their eyes, and nodding, say,
 * "Queen Djenira walks to-day

The courts of the lord Pthamasar
 * Where the sweet birds of Psuthys are."

And those of earth about her porch
 * Of shadow cool and grey

Their sidelong beaks in silence lean,
 * And silent flit away.