Sons of Mughira! I love well Among your tribe a young gazelle; Your lances' shadows guard him so, He needs not to his thorn to go. His stool, the steed he rides upon Rejoices in its champion Armed with the needle that he plies Sharp as the lashes of his eyes. The needle o'er the silken dress Careers with wondrous nimbleness, As down the sky bright meteors snake With threads of lightning in their wake. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INFERENTIAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON JOHN ERICSSON DAY MEMORIAL, 1918 by CARL SANDBURG |