Royal in splendour went down the day
On the plain where an Indian city lay,
With its crown of domes o’er the forest high,
Red, as if fused in the burning sky;
And its deep groves pierced by the rays which made
A bright stream’s way through each long arcade,
Till the pillar’d vaults of the banian stood
Like torch-lit aisles midst the solemn wood;
And the plantain glitter’d with leaves of gold,
As a tree midst the genii gardens old,