Then I: "The very same whom I—
Guard at the Western Portal—'neath the stars
Some midnights past heard singing. Dim the dry
Hot night; and Baghdad only knew of us
Until, gray shadows shuffling slowly by,
Pilgrims for Mecca passed, all vaporous
In dust and darkness; them we challenged not.
—Slaves, with the tribute of Nicephorus
The Roman, from long shallops, as they shot
Along the moonlit Tigris far away,