Of jeweled belts that burned,—and, keen and bright,
Swift hedged us out. Then broad the red blood dyed
The ground around a body—and, hoar white,
Was raised a severed head.—And, stupefied,
Elbowing the rabble, "By my beard!" I cried,
Marking the face, "Jaafer the Barmecide!"
A PRE-EXISTENCE.
An intimation of some previous life?