O singing caravan, I was To-night
"Long ere you dreamed. I dreaming of my lady
Became the cargo-bearer we call Self.
Two hundredweight of flesh that spouted Sa'di,
A restless bag of bones intent on pelf,
Have straddled me in turn.... Hashish and spices,
Wheat, poisons, satins, brass, and graven stone,
I, Tous, have borne all human needs and vices
As solemnly as had they been my own.
"Moon-faced sultanas blue with kohl a-pillion,