Me, they entrapped . . . cowards! They did not 
     
     dare 
     
     To fight, as brave men do, without disguise, 
     
     And face my unleashed rage! The hidden snare 
     
     Was their device to win an untamed prize. 
     
    
   
   
    
     I am a captive . . . not for me the vast, 
     
     White dome of sky above the blinding sand, 
     
    

    
     The sweeping rapture of the desert blast 
     
     Across long ranges of untrodden land! 
     
    
   
   
    
     Yet still they fetter not my thought! In dreams 
     
     I, desert-born, tread the hot wastes once more, 
     
    

    
     Quench my deep thirst in cool, untainted streams, 
     
     And shake the darkness with my kingly roar! 
     
    
   
   
    
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