Page:The Golden Threshold.djvu/106

 Though centuries falter and decline, Your proven strongholds shall remain Embodied memories of your line, Incarnate legends of your reign.

O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed Your flower-like bodies to the tomb; Death is in truth the vital seed Of your imperishable bloom. Each new-born year the bulbuls sing Their songs of your renascent loves; Your beauty wakens with the spring To kindle these pomegranate groves.