The caravan had gone. I leaned low down
To hearken, but in vain. Abandoned! Lost!
Would my siesta prove a sleep of death?
Another scene: The sun had set, and peace
Pervaded hill and dale. A sweet perfume
Of flowers filled the evening air. The sound
Of tinkling bells came faintly from a plain
Where camels browsed. The slender minarets,
And stately domes of mosques, proclaimed a town,
That nestled ’mid the distant, waving palms.