As Watchers hang upon 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.
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