III
As seamen on the seasWith song and dance descryAdown the morning breezeAn islet in the sky:In Araby the dry,As o’er the sandy plainThe panting camels cryTo smell the coming rain:
So all things over earthA common law obey,And rarity and worthPass, arm in arm, away;And even so, to-day,The printer and the bard,In pressless Davos, prayTheir sixpenny reward.