But he, whose weary step hath traced
Mysterious Afric’s awful waste—
Whose eye Arabia’s wilds hath view’d,
Can tell thee what is solitude!
It is to traverse lifeless plains,
Where everlasting stillness reigns,
And billowy sands and dazzling sky
Seem boundless as infinity!
It is to sink, with speechless dread,
In scenes unmeet for mortal tread,