XII

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson · (no date)
Published 01/07/1880
Part of Recollections of the Arabian Nights

The fourscore windows all alight

As with the quintessence of flame,

A million tapers flaring bright

From wreathéd silvers looked to shame

The hollowvaulted dark, and streamed

Upon the moonéd domes aloof

In inmost Bagdat, till there seemed

Hundreds of crescents on the roof

Of night newrisen, that marvellous time,

To celebrate the golden prime

Of good Haroun Alraschid.

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