The Persian Garden

The laden fruit trees that were growing there

Bent to the ground as if prostrate in prayer—

The fruit they bore was of a wondrous size

Filling the soul with rapturous surprise;

The apples were like goblets red with wine,

The pomegranates were so firm and fine

They seemed like agate boxes made to hold

Their little treasuries of jewels and gold;

Quinces seemed stuffed with musk, pistachios smiled

Like laughing lips sweet juices have beguiled;

Rubies and saffron’s golden yellow vied

In parti-colored peaches side by side;