When I nighted and day’d in Damascus town,
Time aware such another he ne’er should view;
And careless we slept under wing of night,
Till dappled morn ’gan her smiles renew,
And dewdrops on branch in their beauty hung
Like pearls to be dropt when the zephyr blew,
And the lake was the page where birds read and wrote,
And the clouds set points to what breezes roll.
Alf Laylah wa Laylah
(Burton’s “Arabian Nights”).