In marble fonts; there grain, and flower, and fruit,
Gush from the earth until the land runs o'er;[243]
But there, too, many a poison-tree has root,
And Midnight listens to the lion's roar,
And long, long deserts scorch the camel's foot,
Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan;
And as the soil is, so the heart of man.
LVI.
Afric is all the Sun's, and as her earth
Her human clay is kindled; full of power