This dried-up desert sea," said he,
"These tawny sands of Arazit" ...
Avaunt! the tale is not of it.
A chief from out the desert's rim
Rode swift as twilight swallows swim,
Or eagle blown from eyrie nest.
His trim-limb'd steed was black as night,
His long black hair had blossom'd white,
With feathers from the koko's crest;
His iron face was flush'd and red,