Page:With Sa'di in the Garden, or The Book of Love (1888).djvu/18

Oh, friends! verse is too bold seeking to tell
How beautiful this Eastern Tomb doth rise,
How fair by sun or moonlight, how superb
This house of Love and Death—all lily-white
In the green garden upon Jumna's shore!
The City, swarming past the River's bend,
Wafts no noise here; far off you may discern
The bridge of boats, the Fort's red wall, the Domes—
Three pearly foam-bells—of the Mosque of Pearl
Suspended o'er those distant parapets;
Ram-Bagh; the tall palm-groves by Akbar's grave;
And Akbar's judgment-terrace. Here the stream—
Yamuna, silver daughter of the Sun—
Glides broad and silent, washing sandy flats
And ancient water-gates. By avenues
Of neem and palsa; past low huts of mat,
Gay painted country-dwellings, topes, and wells,
Temples, and little shrines where gilded gods
Squat with crossed legs—Balkrishna, Hanuman;