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Show ON THE DESERT. (Isaac Bassett Choate in the Independent) Trails cross but once, however long they be, As ship halls ship but once upon the sea. Let, then, there be a fair greeting and godspeed Between each passing traveler and me. A sad leave-taking at the parting well-One well-One braves the desert's dangers weird and fell; -Back turns the other to a lonely home, And Allah goes with both how strange to tell'. Worn desert paths, In sandy furrows seen. From gardens lead to other gardens green, As human lives lead out from regions blest To others blest but, oh! the dust . between! be-tween! These camels, forced their heavy loads to bear, O'er native sands by paths familiar fare; But he who drives, a stranger and alone, Himself by Fate is driven he knows not where. From morning's calm to quietude of eve Slow-moving camel's, dusty courses weave From birth to death we fret life's dusty plain. And at our death how little dust we |