192
AT LAST.
Desert wells by tall palms shaded,
Where dusky camels drink;
While dark-eyed Arab maidens
Fill their pitchers at the brink.
Where dusky camels drink;
While dark-eyed Arab maidens
Fill their pitchers at the brink.
And secluded convent chapels,
Where veiled nuns kneel to pray,
With a dim light streaming o'er them
Through arches quaint and gray,
While down the long and winding aisles
Low music dies away.
Where veiled nuns kneel to pray,
With a dim light streaming o'er them
Through arches quaint and gray,
While down the long and winding aisles
Low music dies away.
There is a starry twilight
Of the soul, as sadly fair,
When our wild emotions are at rest,
Like the pale nuns at prayer;
And our griefs are hushed like sleepers,
And put off the robes of care.
Of the soul, as sadly fair,
When our wild emotions are at rest,
Like the pale nuns at prayer;
And our griefs are hushed like sleepers,
And put off the robes of care.
