Sent the lit ripples to the shadowed shores.
A near muézzin's long, high-towered call
Went yearning up to star-lit architraves,
And dying left a silence over all,
Saving the grassy whisper of small waves.
THE BEGGAR
There was a man whom a king loved, and heard
With smiles his swift step and impetuous word
Among the slow-paced counsellors. To the young
Belong the careless hand, the daring tongue.