And by the sentinel who standing slept.
Strongly against the portal, through my rags,--
My old, base rags,--and through the maiden's veil,
I pressed my knife,--upon the wooden hilt
Was "Adeb, son of Akem," carved by me
In my long slavehood,--as a passing sign
To wait the Imam's waking. Shadows cast
From two high-sailing clouds upon the sand
Passed not more noiseless than we two, as one,
Glided beneath the moonlight, till I smelt
The fragrance of the stables. As I slid
The wide doors open, with a sudden bound
Uprose the startled horses; but they stood
Still as the man who in a foreign land
Hears his strange language, when my Desert call,
As low and plaintive as the nested dove's,
Fell on their listening ears. From stall to stall,
Feeling the horses with my groping hands,
I crept in darkness; and at length I came
Upon two sister mares, whose rounded sides,
Fine muzzles, and small heads, and pointed ears,
And foreheads spreading 'twixt their eyelids wide,
Long slender tails, thin manes, and coats of silk,
Told me, that, of the hundred steeds there stalled,
My hand was on the treasures. O'er and o'er
I felt their long joints, and down their legs
To the cool hoofs;--no blemish anywhere:
These I led forth and saddled. Upon one
I set the lily, gathered now for me,--
My own, henceforth, forever. So we rode