To A Negro Belle

You make me dream of distant tropic climes, Luxurious vegetation; nights serene By burning passion made tempestuous, The witching scent of rare exotic flowers That sooth and render sweetly languorous, Of music soft and weird, whose savage rhythm Compels each fibre of the frame to dance.

I see you as the princess of an isle Whose jungles are replete with beasts of prey, And whose vast forests ever are alive With cries and frolickings of birds and apes; Whose villages of bamboo huts are full Of dusky-hued and happy naked people.

Your simple hearted subjects pay you homage; Prostrated in the dust, they weirdly chant Thy praises, even as in my own way, I sing your praises, sweet, exotic princess. Oh, let me enter your enchanted realm, And make of me your happy, humble slave.