SWEPT by the hot wind, stark, untrackable, The stony desert stretches to the sky. Deep-printed shadows at the tent-door lie, And camels slumber by the burning well. One weeps within, wrinkled and dusk of face, White-haired and lordly, o'er the new-brought dead: Mohammed over Seid, who loved and read Truth in the master when a fierce disgrace Burned in his blood and none would heed the word. "Behold the Prophet how he mourns a slave!" So the slave's daughter, and Mohammed heard: "A friend has lost a friend. What Allah gave His wisdom takes. He never yet has erred!" Thus said, and made the slain a martial grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: A BURNT SHIP by JOHN DONNE HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: THE MARSHES OF GLYNN by SIDNEY LANIER THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE by MATTHEW PRIOR PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 46. AL-WASI'H by EDWIN ARNOLD A CHARACTER by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE UNKNOWN SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE SILENCE OF UNLABOURED FIELDS by JOSEPH CAMPBELL THE WEARER OF THE GREEN; TO MY FRIEND JOHN JAMES DONOGHUE, M.D. by DAVID MERRITT CARLYLE |