In Sana, oh, in Sana, God, the Lord,
  Was very kind and merciful to me! 
  Forth from the Desert in my rags I came,
  Weary and sore of foot.  I saw the spires
  And swelling bubbles of the golden domes
  Rise through the trees of Sana, and my heart
  Grew great within me with the strength of God;
  And I cried out, “Now shall I right myself,—­
  I, Adeb the Despised,—­for God is just!”
  There he who wronged my father dwelt in peace,—­
  My warlike father, who, when gray hairs crept
  Around his forehead, as on Lebanon
  The whitening snows of winter, was betrayed
  To the sly Imam, and his tented wealth
  Swept from him, ’twixt the roosting of the cock
  And his first crowing,—­in a single night: 
  And I, poor Adeb, sole of all my race,
  Smeared with my father’s and my kinsmen’s blood,
  Fled through the Desert, till one day a tribe
  Of hungry Bedouins found me in the sand,
  Half mad with famine, and they took me up,
  And made a slave of me,—­of me, a prince! 
  All was fulfilled at last.  I fled from them,
  In rags and sorrow.  Nothing but my heart,
  Like a strong swimmer, bore me up against
  The howling sea of my adversity. 
  At length o’er Sana, in the act to swoop,
  I stood like a young eagle on a crag. 
  The traveller passed me with suspicious fear: 
  I asked for nothing; I was not a thief. 
  The lean dogs snuffed around me:  my lank bones,
  Fed on the berries and the crusted pools,
  Were a scant morsel.  Once, a brown-skinned girl
  Called me a little from the common path,
  And gave me figs and barley in a bag. 
  I paid her with a kiss, with nothing more,
  And she looked glad; for I was beautiful,
  And virgin as a fountain, and as cold. 
  I stretched her bounty, pecking, like a bird,
  Her figs and barley, till my strength returned. 
  So when rich Sana lay beneath my eyes,
  My foot was as the leopard’s, and my hand
  As heavy as the lion’s brandished paw;
  And underneath my burnished skin the veins
  And stretching muscles played, at every step,
  In wondrous motion.  I was very strong. 
  I looked upon my body, as a bird
  That bills his feathers ere he takes to flight,—­
  I, watching over Sana.  Then I prayed;
  And on a soft stone, wetted in the brook,
  Ground my long knife; and then I prayed again. 
  God heard my voice, preparing all for me,
  As, softly stepping down the hills,
  I saw the Imam’s summer-palace all ablaze
  In the last flash of sunset.  Every fount
  Was spouting fire, and all the orange-trees
  Bore blazing coals, and from the marble walls
  And gilded spires and columns, strangely wrought,
  Glared the red light, until my eyes were pained
  With the fierce splendor.  Till the night grew thick,
  I lay within the bushes, next the door,
  Still as a serpent, as invisible.