Up and down in their basin fell,
And the goats and the camels browsed at ease,
And the confident song birds sang and flew
In the shade of the thick mimosa trees;
For fear was not when the world was new.
In the early dawning had come the guest,
And whether from east or whether from west
They knew not, nor asked, as he stood and bent
At the entrance of the lowly tent:
He had dipped his hand in the bowl of food,