And last the elephant came, whose tower
Held the Lord of this pomp and power:
And round that chariot of his pride,
Like chains of white sea-pearls,
Of braids enwove of summer flowers,
Glided fair dancing girls;
And as the rose-leaves fall to earth,
Their light feet touched the ground,—
But for the zone of silver bells
You had not heard a sound,
As, scattering flowers o'er the way,
Danced round the beautiful array.
But there was one who 'mid them shone,
A planet lovely and alone,
A rose, one flower amid many,
But still the loveliest of any:
Though fair her arm as the moonlight,
Others might raise an arm as white;
Though light her feet as music's fall,
Others might be as musical:
But where were such dark eyes as hers?
So tender, yet withal so bright,
As the dark orbs had in their smile
Mingled the light of day and night.
