And was a prince, and rode a great white horse!...
To the strong lads they whisper of the wars,
Of glory and red coats; or of bright waves
Tumbling, a foam of white, over a ship’s dipped nose
In some tumultuous, splendid, sun-bathed sea;
Or of adventures, where the world is warm
And palm-trees stand above a glittering beach
Under deep skies; where you may chance to meet
Paul and Virginia; or an Arab horde—
Slave-traders all, with muskets damascened—