The Pardah Nashin

 HER life is a revolving dream 
Of languid and sequestered ease; 
Her girdles and her fillets gleam 
Like changing fires on sunset seas; 
Her raiment is like morning mist, 
Shot opal, gold and amethyst.
 


From thieving light of eyes impure, 
From coveting sun or wind's caress, 
Her days are guarded and secure 
Behind her carven lattices, 
Like jewels in a turbaned crest, 
Like secrets in a lover's breast.
 


But though no hand unsanctioned dares 
Unveil the mysteries of her grace, 
Time lifts the curtain unawares, 
And Sorrow looks into her face .
 .
 .
 
Who shall prevent the subtle years, 
Or shield a woman's eyes from tears?

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