Mirage[5]

I see upon the desert’s yellow rim, Beyond the trodden sand and herbage white Of level noon intolerably bright, A purple lure of love divine and dim. I hasten toward the fronded palm trees slim-- The fountains of the city of delight-- And stand bewildered to my heart’s despite In empty plains where hot horizons swim.

Will I who love the vision gain at last For very love of love the city’s gates? I, weary, desert-wandering, knowing this: That waiting me the golden doors are fast, And fathom-deep in dream the Princess waits, Her curving mouth uplifted for the kiss.