The Re-echo Club: as by Omar Khayyam (Lady of Niger)

Why if the Soul can fling the Dust aside
And, smiling, on a Tiger blithely ride,
Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him
In stupid Niger tamely to abide?

Strange, is it not? that, of the Myriads who
Before us rode the Sandy Desert through,
Not one returns to tell us of the Road
Which to discover we ride smiling, too.

We are no other than a moving Row
Of Magic Niger-shapes that come and go
Round with the Smile-illumined Tiger held
In Midnight by the Master of the Show.