WHEN, in the wastes of old, the Arabian Sheikh Beheld a sudden peace amid the sands, With springing waters and green pasture lands, Fringed with the waving palm and cactus-spike, Think ye he stayed to fashion fence or dyke? Nay! for he called into his hollowed hands Till all his hounds came trooping swift in bands: Sheep-dog and wolf-hound, terrier, cur, and tyke, They bayed with deep, full voices on the calm. Then he: "So far as the last echoes die The land is mine, pasture and spring and palm!" So men who watch afar the Hope Divine Rally a pack of sectaries and cry: "Behold the Land of Promise: ours, not thine!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALIEN WOMEN; SONGKHLA, THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON DORA VERSUS ROSE by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON RIDDLE ON THE LETTER H (2) by CATHERINE MARIA FANSHAWE THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER by ALEXANDER POPE THE NONSENSE SAW OF A SAW-GIRL I SAW IN ARKANSAW by FRED W. ALLSOPP |