No More Learning

I passed it on my weary way in worry, 
 I and my brawny mount in the morning haze,

My mount: a camel, onager-swift, strong-spined 
 her withers smooth as a dune on a windless day,
A nine-year tush has           her seven-year tooth, 
 not too young or too old, in the prime of age
Like a wild ass gone rushing through the reeds, 
 dark-furred with fight-scars round the neck and face.