Your speech and smiles betoken breeding, noble, frank.
Mere sight of your kind features salve is to the eyes;
Your looks alone enrich;—gold in your voices lies.
Each one of you expression is of God’s own grace;
In Caliph’s bosom nurtured, favoured with high place;540
That you, in turn, dispense th’ elixir of support,
And brighten longing eyes by words of kind import.
I am a stranger, poor, come from the desert’s sands,
In hopes some favour to obtain from sovereign hands.
The rumour of his goodness fills the wilderness;