Along a narrow Moorish street <br />A blue-eyed soldier strode. <br />(Ah, well-a-day.) <br />Veiled from her lashes to her feet <br />She stepped from her abode, <br />(Ah, lack-a-day.) <br /> <br /> <br />Now love may guard a favoured wife <br />Who leaves the harem door; <br />(Ah, well-a-day.) <br />But hungry hearted is her life <br />When she is one of four. <br />(Ah, lack-a-day.) <br /> <br /> <br />If black eyes glow with sudden fire <br />And meet warm eyes of blue- <br />(Ah, well-a-day.) <br />The old, old story of desire <br />Repeats itself anew. <br />(Ah, lack-a-day.) <br /> <br /> <br />When bugles blow the soldier flies- <br />Though bitter tears may fall <br />(Ah, lack-a-day.) <br /> <br />A Moorish child with blue, blue eyes <br />Plays in the harem hall. <br /> <br />(Ah, well-a-day.)<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-episode-4/
