An Ominous Bird Sang From Its Branch, 'Beware, O Wanderer! Night 'Mid Her Flowers Of Glamourie Spilled Draws Swiftly Near: 'Night With Her Darkened Caravans, Piled Deep With Silver And Myrrh, Draws From The Portals Of The East, O Wanderer Near! 'Night Who Walks Plum'D Through The Fields Of Stars That Strangely Stir - Smitten To Fire By The Sandals Of Him Who Walks With Her.'