by Adela Florence Nicolson (1865 - 1904), as Laurence Hope

Language: English 
Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar,
  Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell?
Whom do you lead on Rapture's roadway, far,
  Before you agonise them in farewell?

 ... 

Pale hands, pink tipped, like Lotus buds that float
  On those cool waters where we used to dwell,
I would have rather felt you round my throat,
  Crushing out life, than waving me farewell!

Note for stanza 1, line 2 ("Who lies beneath your spell?") : in the final repetition in Woodforde-Finden's setting, this becomes "Where lies your spell?"

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 96