Classic Poem

AN ALLEGORY.


Deep in the deserts wild of burning sand,
Far from my mountain home,
Far from the vales and streams of Fatherland,
Alone I roam.

I see, at distance o'er the barren brown,
A placid lake at rest;
Shadowy hills and moving clouds float down
Its glancing breast.

Alas! the waters vanish, thin as light,
When thirsty feet draw near;
Like Error, they at distance cheat the sight,
Then disappear.

Over the hot and heavy soil I tread,
How wearily and slow!
The pitiless sun beats down upon my head,
Yet on I go.

I see the unburied bones of mighty hosts,
In drifted sand-hills near;
I hear the mutterings of their thirsty ghosts,
" No water here! "

But now far off I see, cheered on once more,
A half-hid palm-tree stand;
Branch after branch, aloft it rises o'er
The sea of sand.

So to the shipwrecked mariner, at last,
Sinking in long death-strife,
Over the main comes on, with growing mast,
The ship of life.

The low acacia lifts its fragrant head,
Planted beside the well;
Its yellow flowers o'er sultry breezes spread
A pleasant smell.

See the green bending boughs, how beautiful,
Down o'er the fountain slanting;
And birds among the leaves shady and cool,
Are loudly chanting.

Hope nerves afresh each slowly-lagging limb,
Onward I run, I fly;
Down on my knees I fall beside its brim —
The well is dry!

" O G OD ! a death of thirst! and life all spent —
Ended ere yet begun!
Father , it is Thy Hand, I am content:
T HY will be done! "

I lay me down beneath the palm; the cup
My hands still vainly keep;
And deadly faintness wraps my senses up,
Like sudden sleep.

The desert was not in my dreams, nor heat,
Nor weariness, nor thirst;
But sparkling from the rocks before my feet,
The fountain burst!

I laughed to see the joyous streams all round
Run purling through the plain;
And rustled in my ears the plashy sound
Of falling rain.

I woke. The cup was brimming in my hand,
The drops of Heaven still fell;
And by my side, ran over in the sand
The bubbling well.