"Then something tender, and sad, and mild
As a mother's voice to her wandering child,
"Rebuked my frenzy; and bowing my head,
I prayed as I never before had prayed:
"Pity me, God! for I die of thirst;
Take me out of this land accurst;
"And if ever I reach my home again,
Where earth has springs, and the sky has rain,
"I will dig a well for the passers-by,
And none shall suffer from thirst as I.
"I saw, as I prayed, my home once more,
The house, the barn, the elms by the door,
"The grass-lined road, that riverward wound,
The tall slate stones of the burying-ground,
"The belfry and steeple on meeting-house hill,
The brook with its dam, and gray grist mill,
"And I knew in that vision beyond the sea,
The very place where my well must be.
"God heard my prayer in that evil day;
He led my feet in their homeward way,
"From false mirage and dried-up well,
And the hot sand storms of a land of hell,
"Till I saw at last through the coast-hill's gap,
A city held in its stony lap,
"The mosques and the domes of scorched Muscat,
And my heart leaped up with joy thereat;
"For there was a ship at anchor lying,
A Christian flag at its mast-head flying,
"And sweetest of sounds to my homesick ear
Was my native tongue in the sailor's cheer.
"Now the Lord be thanked, I am back again,
Where earth has springs, and the skies have rain,
"And the well I promised by Oman's Sea,
I am digging for him in Amesbury.
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