My fancy, skimming southern seas,
Wanders at twilight where the breeze
Flutters the dark pomegranate trees.
We all are sultans in our dreams
Of gardens where the sunlight gleams
On fairer flowers and clearer streams;
And thus in dreams I seek my home
Where dim Shiraz, dome after dome,
Smiles on the water’s silver foam;
The dancing girls, with tinkling feet