Author Thomas Stephens Collier POWER H AROUN , the Caliph, through the sunlit street Walked slowly with bent head and weary breath, And cried, " Alas, I cannot stay my feet, That move unceasing toward the gate of Death. " Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments