make
  Men targets for their art, and armor-joints
  The marks through which to pierce and kill;
  Then wrestlers, boxers, those who hurl the quoit,
  And runners fleet, both lithe and light of limb;
  And then twelve mighty spearmen, who could pierce
  The fleeing boar or deer or fleet gazelle;
  Then chariots, three horses yoked to each,
  The charioteers in Persian tunics clad,
  Arms bare, legs bare—­all were athletes in power,
  In form and race each an Apollo seemed;
  Yoked to the first were three Nisaean steeds,[14]
  Each snowy white, proud stepping, rangy, tall,
  Chests broad, legs clean and strong, necks arched and high,
  With foreheads broad, and eyes large, full and mild,
  A race that oft Olympic prizes won,
  And whose descendants far from Iran’s plains
  Bore armored knights in battle’s deadly shock
  On many bloody European fields;
  Then three of ancient Babylonian stock,[15]
  Blood bay and glossy as rich Tyrian silk—­
  Such horses Israel’s sacred prophets saw
  Bearing their conquerors in triumph home,
  A race for ages kept distinct and pure,
  Fabled from Alexander’s charger sprung;
  Then three from distant desert Tartar steppes,
  Ewe-necked, ill-favored creatures, lank and gaunt,
  That made the people laugh as they passed by—­
  Who ceased to laugh when they had run the race—­
  Such horses bore the mighty Mongol hosts[16]
  That with the cyclone’s speed swept o’er the earth;
  Then three, one gray, one bay, one glossy black,
  Descended from four horses long since brought
  By love-sick chief from Araby the blest,
  Seeking with such rare gifts an Indian bride,
  Whose slender, graceful forms, compact and light,
  Combined endurance, beauty, strength and speed—­
  A wondrous breed, whose famed descendants bore
  The Moslem hosts that swept from off the earth
  Thy mighty power, corrupt, declining Rome,
  And with each other now alone contend
  In speed, whose sons cast out, abused and starved,
  Alone can save from raging whirlwind flames[17]
  That all-devouring sweep our western plains;
  Then stately elephants came next in line,
  With measured step and gently swaying gait,
  Covered with cloth of gold richly inwrought,
  Each bearing in a howdah gaily decked
  A fair competitor for beauty’s prize,
  With merry comrades and some sober friend;
  The vina, bansuli, sitar and harp
  Filling the air with sweetest melody,
  While rippling laughter from each howdah rang,
  And sweetest odors, as from op’ning flowers,
  Breathed from their rich apparel as they passed.

  And thus they circle round the maidan wide,
  And as they pass along the people shout,
  “Long live the king! long live our noble prince!”
  To all which glad acclaims the prince responds
  With heartfelt courtesy and royal grace.