They passed us slowly by,

And then we took the bridge,

And, while our captors parleyed with the guards,

Who stood, on either hand,

With naked swords,

I turned my head,

And saw for the last time, far Eastward,

The cold, snow-brilliant peaks,

Beyond my dim, blue, native hills.

And, as I looked, my thoughts flew homeward,

And I, one dreaming moment,

Stood by my mourning mother in the cavern

Of desolation, looking on the dead.

And then, between the brazen gate-posts,

And underneath the brazen lintel,

At last we entered Babylon.

Before us, yet another wall arose,

And, turning sharply

Down a narrow way,

The living breath of heaven seemed shut from us

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