Virgin and Widow

Over Sarajevo flies a falcon, Looking round for cooling shade to cool him. Then he finds a pine on Sarejevo; Under it a well of sparkling water; By the water, Hyacinth, the widow, And the Rose, the young, unmarried virgin. He look’d down—the falcon—and bethought him: “Shall I kiss grave Hyacinth, the widow; Or the Rose, the young, unmarried virgin?” Thinking thus—at last the bird determined— And he whisper’d to himself sedately, “Gold—though long employ’d, is far, far better Than the finest silver freshly melted.” So he kiss’d—kiss’d Hyacinth, the widow. Very wroth wax’d then young Rose, the virgin: “Sarejevo! let a ban be on thee! Cursed be thy strange and evil customs! For thy youths they love the bygone widows, And thy aged men the untried virgins.”