My Warrior 'mid the tented field!

“He reaches now some gorge's mouth;

Upon his helmet thou shalt shine;—

Seest thou, O moon, from north to south,

Another loved one like to mine?”

IV.

No merchant from the isles of spice

Who stands in hushed hareem or hall

Who parts his goods, and names the price,

Was I, O friend! I gave thee all.