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"Another time.
Good mother ? for me it would ill-become
To tarry long, while all my comrades wait
Upon the river's bank, whereas we flew
Our pigeons, mine" - "Tis safe," she interposed,
And dragged him by the arm through several gates
And left him at bright pool's brink and shut
A gate or two and slipt.1

And he like one
From midnight slumbers snatched to moonlight bowers
In Persian values, by some love-sick Peri,
With wonder looked around at seenes the like
He never saw before. All over the park
A hundred fountains flew with rainbows decked
And full of golden foam; a Jessamine sea
About him spread, and at his feet a pond
Now one by one her colored lilies closed.
More varied lay the scene beyond, where spread
As far as eye could reach an endless grove.
With raptured eve the prince surveyed the scene
And took his way to where one water broad
Shone in the morning sun, and stood reclined
To a youthful tree that kissed the water's face
He was a learned youth' and not to him
Unknown the magic realms that poets trod
Before; and spake to him each bird and bloom
Some poetic tale or moral sweet. He mused
And musing stood, lost in a world of charms.