Dreaming that Life and Death before me stood.

And, as each thrust towards me a shrouded cup,

Implacable silence bade me choose and drink.

But, as I stretched a blind, uncertain hand

To take the cup of death,

I wakened, and dawn trembled,

At last, beyond the Eastern hills,

And, star by star, night failed;

And eagerly the sun leapt up the sky,

And, as his flashing rays

Smote kindling towers and flaming gates of brass,

Across the reedy moat

A clattering drawbridge fell,

And wide the glittering portals slowly swung:

And there came streaming out in slow procession

A sleepy caravan of slouching camels,

Groaning and grumbling as they strode along

Beneath their mountainous burdens,

Upon whose swaying summits,

Impassively, the blue-robed merchants sat.

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