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As I Went Up Toward Lebanon


ISSUE:  Summer 1926

As I went up toward Lebanon,
The turbaned guardian of the gate
Glowered at me like the face of Fate,
As if to say—”thou Christian cur,
In Allah’s name, where goest thou?”
I gave my Arab steed the spur,
Drew eager breath, and bared my brow
To greet the scepter of the sun,
While ardor thrilled me like a vow
As I went up toward Lebanon.

As I went up toward Lebanon,
A crooning wind came creeping down
From the great cedared mountain’s crown,
And shook the citron and the lime
Until their attared blossoms fell
As softly as a woven rhyme
Whose measure is inaudible;
With murmurous ripple and with run
The voice of Barada kept time
As I went up toward Lebanon.

As I went up toward Lebanon,
I passed where drowsy Bessima lies
In its pomegranate paradise;
The path before me stretched afar,
And I, ascending, seemed to see,
Above bright cliffs of cinnabar,
White heights that touched infinity,
And vintage raptures to be won
Where terraced grapes gleamed goldenly
As I went up toward Lebanon.

As I went up toward Lebanon,
A lingering look behind I cast
As one might pause to view the Past.
The slim Bride’s Minaret like a spear
Pierced the blue distance of the sky,
And faintly falling on my ear
Was borne a lone muezzin’s cry.
Beyond, a web-like waste was spun—
The desert parching to the eye,
As I went up toward Lebanon.

As I went up toward Lebanon,
I dreamed the olden dream again
Of Saladin and Tamerlaine.
As though upon a painted screen
I marked the ancient pomp unfurl,
Where, in its garden-close of green,
Vocal with nightingale and merle,
In loveliness surpassed by none,
Damascus glimmered like a pearl
As I went up toward Lebanon.

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