And the camels galled, sorefooted, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Today I take the train to New York
To talk of whirlwind, flood, and fire
Leaving quite early so to make time
First for art and then a few oysters
The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the tongue with tasting.