Page:Poems Proctor.djvu/104

And the air grew heavy and hot and still
 As the darkness closer drew.
They fled before its scorching breath;
 They crouched in trembling bands;
But it shut them in like a pall of fire,
 Outspread by demon hands;—
And, when it passed, that kneeling host
 Lay lifeless on the sands!

"And hark! That eve his mother heard,
 By the door, the whip-poor-will's cry;
And, at midnight, the death-watch beating
 In the wall, her pillow by;
And the howl of the dog her sailor lad
 Left to her faithful care,
As the wan moon sank before the dawn,
 Ring through the startled air;
And dreamed the cherry-tree's withered bough:
 Was white with its early bloom;—
Then she knew in that drear and cruel land
 Her boy had found his tomb!

"Next moon a horde on plunder bent,
 Roaming the desert's heart,
Saw the lone dead, and their treasures bore
 To far Timbuctoo's mart;
And told, in many an Arab tent,
 Of the fair-haired Christian slave
Who nearest of all to the well had pressed,
 When the fierce wind heaped his grave.