Herman Melville

“ Turk soldiers--young, with home-sick eyes;
A Bey, bereaved through luxuries; 30
Strangers and exiles; Moslem dames
Long-veiled in monumental white,
Dumb from the mounds which memory claims;
A half-starved vagrant Edomite;
Sore-footed Arab girls, which toil 35
Depressed under heap of garden-spoil;
The patient ass with panniered urn;
Sour camels humped by heaven and man,
Whose languid necks through habit turn
For easc for ease they hardly gain. 40
In varied forms of fate they wend--
Or man or animal, 'tis one:
Cross-bearers all, alike they tend
And follow, slowly follow on. ”