Sometimes they're buried deep, and find
When they dig out they're almost blind
And cannot tell which way to go,
And thus are lost, a serious woe!
Sometimes, when lost, the drink for men
Gets short; is gone; they thirst, and then
They kill a camel just for lack
Of what he carries in his sac.
In deserts bare and bleak and drear,
The sun shines hot through all the year,
But many an Oasis is found,
Or spot where grass and trees abound.
And here is drink, and here they rest,
And take their fill of what is best;
Then travel on in thankful mood,
With song and shout! "Allah is good!"
KEY-NOTES.
L M N R
LIGHTLY flowing LIQUIDS, we,--
Tethered with our brothers.
Make we music, melody,
More than all the others;
Lulling, mellowy, nimble, rare,
Reveling in rhythm,
Running here and everywhere,
Make me merry with 'em.