Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/360

POETRY: A Magazine of Verse The heat rose and fell— Sharp flickering arpeggios; The wind started up somewhere, Then stopped. The blue smoke of my cigarette Wavered and failed: I was drowsing. And it seemed to me in my dream I was riding To a low brown cluster of squat adobe houses Under the brow of a red barren mesa, Where the track of a wagon trail passed, dipped, and vanished, By a corral with walls of rough plastered stone: And I saw, Looking down at the houses An Indian with a red sash, flannel shirt, and blue trousers, And a red band about his coarse black hair. Eyes black as an antelope Looked up at me: Sheep were feeding about him. And I said to him, "Where do you come from?" And he replied, "From Nazareth, beyond the desert, In Galilee."