And--all for sorrow there shall come To-morrow--
The Moon, who watched them, pales in the gray sky,
While the still Night doth die.
Then breaks fierce Day! The whirling dust is driven
O'er earth and heaven, until the sun-scorched plain
Its road scarce shows for dazzling heat to those
Who, far from home and love, journey in pain,
Longing to rest again.
Panting and parched, with muzzles dry and burning,