Some sorcerer of ooze and slime—
Has left a panoply most rare
For lazy-footed night to wear,
With girdle of a sombre dye,
And hung it on a rock to dry,
Where, flushed with slumber, drones a stream
To charm some lonely mermaid’s dream.
And this my heritage, more fair
Than mosque that ever called to prayer
A Moslem, bids me kneel and pray;