The Samurai

She wakes the biwa's softest melodies,
As through the latticed bamboo she espies
The conquering one for whom her love-dream sighs
Advance amid the seashore's fulgencies.

'Tis he, with swords' and fan's rich braveries.
His tasseled girdle steeped in scarlet dyes
Cuts his dark mail, and on his shoulders rise
Hizen's or Togukawa's blazonries.

This handsome warrior in his dress of plate,
Of brilliant lacquers, bronze and silk, would mate
Some black crustacean, gigantesque, vermeil.

He sees her;—and he smiles behind his mask,
While his more rapid pace makes brighter still
The two gold horns that tremble on his casque.