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And those that under Araby's soft sun
Build their high nests of budding cinnamon;[1]
In short, all rare and beauteous things that fly
Thro' the pure element here calmly lie
Sleeping in light, like the green birds[2] that dwell
In Eden's radiant fields of asphodel!
So on, thro' scenes past all imagining,
More like the luxuries of that impious King,[3]
Whom Death's dark Angel with his lightning torch
Struck down and blasted even in Pleasure's porch,
Than the pure dwelling of a Prophet sent
Armed with Heaven's sword for man's enfranchisement--
Young AZIM wandered, looking sternly round,
His simple garb and war-boots clanking sound
But ill according with the pomp and grace
And silent lull of that voluptuous place.
- ↑ "That bird which liveth in Arabia, and buildeth its nest with cinnamon."--Brown's Vulgar Errors.
- ↑ "The spirits of the martyrs will be lodged in the crops of green birds."--Gibbon, vol. ix. p. 421.
- ↑ Shedad, who made the delicious gardens of Irim, in imitation of Paradise, and was destroyed by lightning the first time he attempted to enter them.
