Bring Me Soft Song, Said Aladdin. "This Tailor-Shop Sings Not At All. Chant Me A Word Of The Twilight, Of Roses That Mourn In The Fall. Bring Me A Song Like Hashish That Will Comfort The Stale And The Sad, For I Would Be Mending My Spirit, Forgetting These Days That Are Bad, Forgetting Companions Too Shallow, Their Quarrels And Arguments Thin, Forgetting The Shouting Muezzin:" - "I Am Your Slave," Said The Jinn. "Bring Me Old Wines," Said Aladdin. "I Have Been A Starved Pauper Too Long. Serve Them In Vessels Of Jade And Of Shell, Serve Them With Fruit And With Song: - Wines Of Pre-Adamite Sultans Digged From Beneath The Black Seas: - New-Gathered Dew From The Heavens Dripped Down From Heaven'S Sweet Trees, Cups From The Angels' Pale Tables That Will Make Me Both Handsome And Wise, For I Have Beheld Her, The Princess, Firelight And Starlight Her Eyes. Pauper I Am, I Would Woo Her. And - Let Me Drink Wine, To Begin, Though The Koran Expressly Forbids It." "I Am Your Slave," Said The Jinn. "Plan Me A Dome," Said Aladdin, "That Is Drawn Like The Dawn Of The Moon, When The Sphere Seems To Rest On The Mountains, Half-Hidden, Yet Full-Risen Soon." "Build Me A Dome," Said Aladdin, "That Shall Cause All Young Lovers To Sigh, The Fullness Of Life And Of Beauty, Peace Beyond Peace To The Eye - A Palace Of Foam And Of Opal, Pure Moonlight Without And Within, Where I May Enthrone My Sweet Lady." "I Am Your Slave," Said The Jinn.