From out a desert where the trails run red,

Judah and Erin speed their camel pace,

Sighting green palms. The flush on either face

Is from the fissure where each wedged her head

From sandstorms, that hurled heavens down, as they sped;

It is no blush for thought, or conduct, base

To the high trust to bring the Human Race,

Truths, without which Time's offspring are born dead.

In spirit, they are sisters; for, beyond

The desert, where the vision, like a dove,

Soars round the palace of Almighty Love,

God hails them as "My Daughters, true and fond,

Who show man, through Noon blaze, my star above,

And to my will, fail never to respond."