Land of Delight! you did not hold us long: Three moons we spent with Hassan, but those three, Like flies in amber, lie in memory — Three languid moons, three moons of dream and song. When Hassan played, the musky winds of night Trembled, and turned to music with delight! Lo! it was melody's insanity: Now 'twas a honey-throated nightingale, And now a sigh, a soul in agony, A troubled dead-march with melodious wail, A fall of tears — then it came daintily, Like the perfumèd air that smote the sail Of Cleopatra's golden barge, when she Sailed down to Tarsus to Mark Antony. |