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A wanderer on far distant shores, That baron had brought richest stores To his own hall, and much of rare And foreign luxury was there: Pages, with colour'd feathers, fann'd The odours of Arabia's land; The carpets strewn around each room Were all of Persia's purple loom; And dark slaves waited on his guests, Each habited in Moorish vests, With turbann'd brows, and bands of gold Around their arms and ancles roll'd. And gazed the guests o'er many a hoard, Like Sinbad's, from his travel stored. They look'd upon the net work dome, Where found the stranger birds a home,