. The universal anthology ; a collection of the best literature, ancient, mediaeval and modern, with biographical and explanatory notes . nscared in the flood. And the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will In the fen where the wild ass is drinking his fill. Afar in the desert I love to ride,With the silent Bushboy alone by my side,Oer the brown karroo, where the bleating cryOf the springboks fawn sounds plaintively ;And the timorous quaggas shrill whistling neighIs heard by the fountain at twilight gray;Where the zebra wantonly tosses his mane,With wild hoof scouring the desolate plain;And the fle
. The universal anthology ; a collection of the best literature, ancient, mediaeval and modern, with biographical and explanatory notes . nscared in the flood. And the mighty rhinoceros wallows at will In the fen where the wild ass is drinking his fill. Afar in the desert I love to ride,With the silent Bushboy alone by my side,Oer the brown karroo, where the bleating cryOf the springboks fawn sounds plaintively ;And the timorous quaggas shrill whistling neighIs heard by the fountain at twilight gray;Where the zebra wantonly tosses his mane,With wild hoof scouring the desolate plain;And the fleet-footed ostrich over the wasteSpeeds like a horseman who travels in haste,Hieing away to the home of her she and her mate have scooped their hid from the pitiless plunderers viewIn the pathless depths of the parched karroo. Afar in the desert I love to ride. With the silent Bushboy alone by my side, Away, away, in the wilderness vast Where the white mans foot hath never passed, And the quivered Coranna or Bechuan Hath rarely crossed with his roving clan, — A region of emptiness, howling and drear, The Hermit. SILENCE. 135 Which man hath abandoned from famine and fear; Which the snake and the lizard inhabit alone, With the twilight bat from the yawning stone; Where grass, nor herb, nor shrub takes root, Save poisonous thorns that pierce the foot; And the bitter melon, for food and drink, Is the pilgrims fare by the salt lakes brink; A region of drought, where no river glides, Nor rippling brook with osiered sides ; Where sedgy pool, nor bubbling fount, Nor tree, nor cloud, nor misty moimt. Appears, to refresh the aching eye; But the barren earth and the burning sky, And the blank horizon, round and round, Spread, — void of living sight or sound. And here, while the night winds round me sigh, And the stars burn bright in the midnight sky, As I sit apart by the desert stone. Like Elijah at Horebs cave, alone, A still small voice comes through the wild (Li
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookiduni, booksubjectliterature
