Be merciful, that they who watch on board,
And they that wait at home, may once more clasp
The hands and press the lips of those they love.”
The vision changed. I sat beneath my tent.
’Twas noon. Upon my right the desert sands
Stretched hot and gleaming till they touched the sky;
Upon my left lay leagues of sand; before,
Behind; which way I looked was burning sand:
The fierce sun overhead poured down a stream
Of heat intolerable. Silence reigned.