Clanged, and the breathless city lay behind.
The Dreamer's shadows shrank against the wall,
As though the desert called and none replied,
Till the young pilot, standing out to night,
Swung clear these lines to sound the depths of her:
"Blue Persian night,
Soft, voiceless as the summer sea!
Flooding the bouldered desert sand, submerge
This cypressed isle
And Demavend's snow-spire—a sunken rock