Court of a Turkish Villa near Damascus

In the midst a fountain,
    Singeth day and night,
Each small wave a mirror
    For the changing light.
Now the golden sunshine,
    Softened by the boughs,
Which a doubtful passage
    To the light allows:
                          ⁠Or the moon seems lingering near,
⁠                          ⁠As she paused the words to hear
⁠                          ⁠Of the tales Arabian,
                          ⁠⁠The old Arabian Nights.

On the wind a murmur
    Seems to float along,
Soft as is the music
    Of remembered song.
Bringing at the moment
    All that dwelt apart
In the lone recesses
    Of the haunted heart.
⁠                          ⁠So upon her twilight wings
                          ⁠⁠Memory beareth graceful things
                          ⁠⁠From the tales Arabian,
                          ⁠⁠From the old Arabian Nights.

I can see the garden
    Treasured from the day,
Where the young Aladdin
    Took his wondering way.
Pale the lamp was burning
    Which the genie swayed;
Would that at this moment
    I could have its aid!
                          ⁠⁠All my fancies, now so vain,
                          ⁠⁠I might with a wish obtain;
⁠                          ⁠From the tales Arabian,
                          ⁠⁠The old Arabian Nights.

Far away the island
    Rises on the deep,
Where the fated Agib
    Found the boy asleep.
Soon the old fond father
    Came with songs and joy
Ah! what bears he with him
    But his murdered boy!
                          ⁠⁠Still does Fate in some dark shape,
                          ⁠⁠Mock our efforts to escape,
⁠                          ⁠As in the tales Arabian,
                          ⁠⁠The old Arabian Nights.

Next a summer palace
    Gleams with sudden light,
But the lovely Persian
    Makes it yet more bright.
I can hear her singing
    In the lonely tower,
Mournful—oh, how mournful!
    Of a happier hour.
⁠                          ⁠Still the same star rules above,
                          ⁠⁠Sorrow still companions love,
⁠                          ⁠As in the tales Arabian,
⁠                          ⁠The old Arabian Nights.

Pleasantly these fancies
    Haunt that fountain's fall,
Making its low music
    Yet more musical.
Still around its waters
    Are adventures told,
Wonderful as any
    That I read of old.
⁠                          ⁠Never will their charm depart,
⁠                          ⁠Still a portion of the heart
⁠                          ⁠Dwells with the tales Arabian,
⁠                          ⁠The old Arabian Nights.