Let there be caves of treasure rare
Deep hidden in sepulchral seas ;
And birds unheard-of darken air
With royal wings, like argosies
Sailing beneath magnific promontories !
Let Caliphs mete fantastic law
And ebon eunuchs swing the sword
So swift, so curved,—let voiceless awe
Sit on the palace dome, to draw
Some god’s destruction on its smiling lord!
May many a maiden comely clad
Revolve in convoluted curls,
Till from each pliant pose I had
(By virtue of her wondrous whirls)
The illusion of a thousand dancing-girls!
Let harlots robed in gold and green
Sit slowly waving ivory plumes
And wings of palm; the while their queen
Lurks in some horror-house unseen,
Damned to be smothered in divine perfumes!
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