DELILAH 



FROM A PICTURE 



The sun has gone down, spreading wide on 



The sky-line one ray of red fire ; 

 Prepare the soft cushions of Sidon, 



Make ready the rich loom of Tyre. 

 The day, with its toil and its sorrow, 



Its shade, and its sunshine, at length 

 Has ended ; dost fear for the morrow, 



Strong man, in the pride of thy strength ? 



Like fire-flies, heavenward clinging. 



They multiply, star upon star ; 

 And the breeze a low murmur is bringing 



From the tents of my people afar. 

 Nay, frown not, I am but a Pagan, 



Yet little for these things I care ; 

 *Tis the hymn to our deity Dagon, 



That comes with the pleasant night-air. 



It shall not disturb thee, nor can it ; 



See, closed are the curtains, the lights 

 Gleam down on the cloven pomegranate, 



Whose thirst-slaking nectar invites ; 



The red wine of Hebron glows brightly 



In yon goblet — the draught of a king ; 



96 



