The Desert

Alone in the desert, alone, I’m alone,

My good steed exhausted, my false guide hath flown.

My path to recover I’ve sought all in vain,

Oh God! I am lost in this desolate plain.

No stream can I find, the cool waters to sip,

Or wildfruit to moisten my blood-swollen lip;

Still more faintly I draw the life parting breath;

No breeze but the Simoom, whose hot kiss is death.

For assistance in vain my glance wildly I fling,

Not a speck in the air save the Vulture’s dark wing:

Soon shall I feel his keen beak in my breast

And the desert’s hot sands prove my last couch of rest.

I am here like some wreck by the fierce billows thrown,

With death and its terrors to struggle alone.

In this contest with death, the deep pang that rends,

Is the thought of those dear ones, wife, children, and friends,

Must I die! must I die! see, the Vulture draws near,

Humanity’s form can no more cause him fear.

Sill nearer he draws, he wheels o’er my head;

I feel at his coming my last hope hath fled,

The Vulture’s fierce scream mocks my cry of despair.

And madness seems mingling its voice in my pray’r.

Hark! hark! ’tis a bell, faintly sounding I hear,

Some Arabs of the desert, and camels draw near!

Oh God! mock me not with a vain, fleeting hope,

If my false ear deceive me, life’s last link is broke.

I am saved! I am saved! friends are at hand,

They see me, they hear my lone cry on the sand.

And nearer, and nearer, the camel bell rings

And the Vulture sails from me with outspreading wings.