As Watchers hang opon the East –

As Beggars revel at a feast

By savory fancy spread –

As Brooks in Deserts, babble sweet

On Ear too far for the delight –

Heaven beguiles the tired.

 

As that same Watcher when the East

Opens the lid of Amethyst 

And lets the morning go –

That Beggar, when an honored Guest –

Those thirsty lips to flagons pressed –

Heaven to us,  if true.