'Twixt noble walls, where shadows softly play, Dost thou traverse, 'neath moonlit archway. A path of solace, winding 'mongst the stone, Where silence reigns, and thou art left alone.

I am but a hat, worn on the head. My name comes from the city where the dye I use is red. I have no brim, as that would interfere with the religious requirements to which my wearers typically adhere.

I lie where life should perish fast, Yet in my bounds, green shadows last. A mirror born of desert’s sigh, Where weary feet and camels lie. What am I?

Jack says I'm his, though coat of arms denies. A herculean column reaching towards the skies. The apex in legends, opposing Ceuta. Beware, seamen, 'Non terrae plus ultra.'

I am not a common word, But I am a common way to get from place to place, More specifically, from rock face to rock face, Or how a bridge may span a gully. My head and tail are a beloved alien, in reverse, My inner is a group of party animals, aglow, And my whole form kinda rhymes with, the line two lines ago.