But rather strewn in gentlemanly ease
In some cool serdab or beneath the trees
That fringe the river-bank you hug your knees
And watch the garish East go chattering by.
And at your side some wise old priest reclines
And weaves a tale of dead and glorious days
When MAMUN reigned; expounds the heavenly signs
Whose movements fix the span of mortal days;
Touches on Afreets and the ways of Djinns;
Through his embroidered tale real heroes pass,