To where in flowers and shadows, peace and pride,
His gardened palace by the river side
Lay like a lotus in perfumed repose;
There set a feast for him as for the king,
With friendly words and courteous welcoming
Sat with the ragged Afghan, while beneath
The dancing girls, each with her jasmine wreath,—
And one that dallied with a crimson rose,—
Sang softly in the garden cool, that sank.
By lawn and terrace to the river's bank: