"The grass-lined road, that riverward wound,
The tall slate stones of the burying-ground,
"The belfry and steeple on meeting-house hill,
The brook with its dam, and gray grist mill,
"And I knew in that vision beyond the sea,
The very place where my well must be.
"God heard my prayer in that evil day;
He led my feet in their homeward way,
"From false mirage and dried-up well,
And the hot sand storms of a land of hell,
"Till I saw at last through the coast-hill's gap,
A city held in its stony lap,
"The mosques and the domes of scorched Muscat,
And my heart leaped up with joy thereat;
"For there was a ship at anchor lying,
A Christian flag at its mast-head flying,
"And sweetest of sounds to my homesick ear
Was my native tongue in the sailor's cheer.
"Now the Lord be thanked, I am back again,
Where earth has springs, and the skies have rain,