LINES.

1833.

1.

As o’er the desert’s scorching sands

The Arah pilgrim strays,

And pants for green Idume’s lands,

Beneath the sultry rays:

2.

As he her spicy hills desires,

With flocks, and fruitage graced,

And onward hastens through the fires

That parch the dreary waste;

3.

So, pilgrim through Earth’s desert wild,

As fainting, and o’erspent,

Thou too art travelling, and exiled,

And in the noontide bent.

4.

Oh think not of the dismal earth,

But stretch thy longing eyes,

To hills, and homes of holy mirth,

That in the distance rise.

5.

Then take fresh courage to thy soul,

And onward speed thy way;

For there the living waters roll,

And there is endless day!