There blooms a flower in Trebizond <br />Stored with such honey for the bee, <br />(So saith the antique book I conned) <br />Of such alluring fragrancy, <br />Not sweeter smells the Eden-tree; <br />Thither the maddened feasters fly, <br />Yet--so alas! is it with me-- <br />To taste that honey is to die. <br /> <br />Beloved, I, as foolish fond, <br />Feast still my eyes and heart on thee, <br />Asking no blessedness beyond <br />Thy face from morn till night to see, <br />Ensorcelled past all remedy; <br />Even as those foolish bees am I, <br />Though well I know my destiny-- <br />To taste that honey is to die. <br /> <br />O'er such a doom shall I despond? <br />I would not from thy snare go free, <br />Release me not from thy sweet bond, <br />I live but in thy mystery; <br />Though all my senses from me flee, <br />I still would glut my glazing eye, <br />Thou nectar of mortality-- <br />To taste that honey is to die. <br /> <br /> <br />ENVOI <br /> <br />Princess, before I cease to be, <br />Bend o'er my lips so burning dry <br />Thy honeycombs of ivory-- <br />To taste that honey is to die.<br /><br />Richard Le Gallienne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ballade-of-the-bees-of-trebizond/
