Classic Poem

Cairo, to sing thy gardens fair,
When shines the moon, now give me wit
For where is night more exquisite?
Or pleasure more alluring where?

I sip the sherbet's cooling draught,
Which in this fervid clime belongs;
And to my ears the plaintive songs
Of Araby the breezes waft;

And while the evening later grows,
And grow the hours of pleasure ripe,
Forth from the nargile's bubbling pipe
I draw contentment and repose.

And Cairo, if to thoughts of love
Prompts the warm heart, what spot like thee?
On such a night came Antony
By Nile with his sweet queen to rove!