AVE IMPERATRIX.
53
O lonely Himalayan height,
Gray pillar of the Indian sky,
Where saw'st thou last in clanging fight,
Our wingèd dogs of Victory?
Gray pillar of the Indian sky,
Where saw'st thou last in clanging fight,
Our wingèd dogs of Victory?
The almond groves of Samarcand,
Bokhara, where red lilies blow,
And Oxus, by whose yellow sand
The grave white-turbaned merchants go:
Bokhara, where red lilies blow,
And Oxus, by whose yellow sand
The grave white-turbaned merchants go:
And on from thence to Ispahan,
The gilded garden of the sun,
Whence the long dusty caravan
Brings cedar and vermilion;
The gilded garden of the sun,
Whence the long dusty caravan
Brings cedar and vermilion;
And that dread city of Cabool
Set at the mountain's scarpèd feet,
Whose marble tanks are ever full
With water for the noon-day heat:
Set at the mountain's scarpèd feet,
Whose marble tanks are ever full
With water for the noon-day heat:
Where through the narrow straight Bazaar
A little maid Circassian
Is led, a present from the Czar
Unto some old and bearded khan,—
A little maid Circassian
Is led, a present from the Czar
Unto some old and bearded khan,—
