"Still I hold that master's treasure, and his record, and his name;
Long I waited for his kindred, but no kindred ever came.
"Time, who beareth all things onward, hither bore our steps again,
When around this spot were scattered whitened bones of beasts and men;
"And from out the heaving hillocks of the mingled sand and mould
Lo! the little palms were springing, which to-day are great and old.
"From the shrubs we held the camels; for I felt that life of man,
Breaking to new forms of being, through that tender herbage ran.
"In the graves of men and camels long the dates unheeded lay,
Till their germs of life commanded larger life from that decay;
"And the falling dews, arrested, nourished every tender shoot,
While beneath, the hidden moisture gathered to each wandering root.
"So they grew; and I have watched them, as we journeyed, year by year;
And we digged this well beneath them, where thou seest it, fresh and
clear.
"Thus from waste and loss and sorrow still are joy and beauty born,
Like the fruitage of these palm-trees and the blossom of the thorn;
"Life from death, and good from evil!--from that buried caravan
Springs the life to save the living, many a weak, despairing man.
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