Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/190

 Dammed out? It wants but a gap, a canal,— Like a flood of life would the waters rush In through the channel, and fill the desert! Soon would the whole of yon red-hot grave Spread forth, a breezy and rippling sea. The oases would rise in the midst, like islands; Atlas would tower in green cliffs on the north; Sailing-ships would, like stray birds on the wing, Skim to the south, on the caravans' track. Life-giving breezes would scatter the choking Vapours, and dew would distil from the clouds. People would build themselves town on town, And grass would grow green round the swaying palm-trees. The southland, behind the Sahara's wall, Would make a new seaboard for civilisation. Steam would set Timbuctoo's factories spinning; Bornu would be colonised apace; The naturalist would pass safely through Habes In his railway-car to the Upper Nile. In the midst of my sea, on a fat oasis, I will replant the Norwegian race; The Dalesman's blood is next door to royal; Arabic crossing will do the rest. Skirting a bay, on a shelving strand, I'll build the chief city, Peeropolis. The world is decrepit! Now comes the turn Of Gyntiana, my virgin land! [Springs up. Had I but capital, soon 'twould be done.— A gold key to open the gate of the sea! A crusade against Death! The close-fisted old churl Shall open the sack he lies brooding upon. Men rave about freedom in every land;— Like the ass in the ark, I will send forth a cry