III

The outlet, did I turn away

The boat-head down a broad canal

From the main river sluiced, where all

The sloping of the moon-lit sward

Was damask-work, and deep inlay

Of braided blooms 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.