All round about theOn either side,
All round about the fragrant marge,
* * * * Eastern flowers large,
Some dropping low their crimson bells,
Half closed, and others studded wide
With disks and tears.
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Thence thro' the garden I was drawn—
A realm of pleasance, many a mound,
And many a shadow-chequered lawn
Full of the city's stilly sound.
And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round
The stately cedar, tamarisks,
Thick rosaries of scented thorn,
Tall Orient shrubs.