III

Often, where clearstemmed platans guard

The outlet, did I turn away

The boathead down a broad canal

From the main river sluiced, where all

The sloping of the moonlit sward

Was damaskwork, and deep inlay

Of breaded blosms unmown, which crept

Adown to where the waters slept.

A goodly place, a goodly time,

For it was in the golden prime

Of good Haroun Alraschid!