I heard how hungry men had come and fed
On thy sick body frail,
Like jackals ravening an orphan dead
On some unguarded trail,

Between two Syrian cities; and I heard
How, through each monstrous feast,
Thy soul was far away as a morning bird,
That sings to the red east.

And then I too was hungry after thee:
Hungry to fetch thy body wine and corn,—
Oh hungry for thy beautiful, bright, free
Spirit ocean-born.