And Nasamon's needy hordes; and those whose darts

Equal the flying arrows of the Mede:

Dark Garamantians leave their fervid home;

And those whose coursers unrestrained by bit

Or saddle, yet obey the rider's hand

Which wields the guiding switch: the hunter, too,

Who wanders forth, his home a fragile hut,

And blinds with flowing robe (if spear should fail)

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