Page:The Seaside and the Fireside.djvu/82



Or caravans, that from Bassora's gate With westward steps depart; Or Mecca's pilgrims, confident of Fate, And resolute in heart!

These have passed over it, or may have passed! Now in this crystal tower Imprisoned by some curious hand at last, It counts the passing hour,

And as I gaze, these narrow walls expand; Before my dreamy eye Stretches the desert with its shifting sand, Its unimpeded sky.

And borne aloft by the sustaining blast, This little golden thread Dilates into a column high and vast, A form of fear and dread.