A gaunt and hoary slab of stone
 I found in desert place,
And wondered why it lay alone
 In that abandoned place.
Said I: 'Maybe a Palace stood
 Where now the lizards crawl,
With courts of musky quietude
 And turrets tall.

Maybe where low the vultures wing
 'Mid mosque and minaret,
The proud pavilion of a King
 Was luminously set.
'Mid fairy fountains, alcoves dim,
 Upon a garnet throne
He ruled,--and now all trace of him
 Is just this stone.

Ah well, I've done with wandering,
 But from a blousy bar
I see with drunk imagining
 A Palace like a star.
I build it up from one grey stone
 With gardens hanging high,
And dream . . . Long, long ere Babylon
 It's King was I.