IV

Ridged the smooth level, bearing on

My shallop through the star-strown calm.

Until another night in night

I enter'd, from the clearer light,

Imbower'd vaults of pillar'd palm.

Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb

Heavenward, were stay'd beneath the dome

      Of hollow boughs.—A goodly time,

      For it was in the golden prime

            Of good Haroun Alraschid.