A bandful of Rauil, from th hot clime Of Arab deecrts brought, Within thifi Rlass becorue the spy.oí Time, Tho minister of Thought. Hoví many weaiy oentaries lias it been About theBe deserts blown ! i Kow mny firange vicisitudes bas acen, , Iíow inany histories known ! , Terbapa the cainelB of the Ishraaelita Tramplcd aoil passcd it o'er, Wbeii into Egypt from the patriaroh a sigbt His favorite eou they bore. Pcrhaps the fnet of Moses, burut and bare, Crunhocl it Vioocath their tread ; Or Phanvoh's fluBhiug wheeto into the air Hcattsred it as tbey ped ; Or Mary, with the Christ of Nozarc-th Hcld clono In her careas, Whoae pilgriiaago of hope anl love and faitn Illumincd the vildcrnC8S ; Or anchorites bencath Engaddi's palms Pacing the Dead Bea beatii, And singing Rlow their oíd Armenian psalm, In half-rticulate epeeoh ; Or caravana, that from Basaora'a gate With wcttv.ar.i aUp8 depart; Or Mecca's pilgrln, confldent of íato, And rsnoluto in heart 1 These have pasaed over it, or may have jasaed ; Now in this crystoj towcr, ImpriMoned by aoine curloua hand at last, It oountnthe paesinu honr. And as I gaze theao narrow wall expand- Eefore my flreamy eyo Strctches the clesert w-ith its shiíUng san?, Its nnimpeded sky. And borne alnft on tho snstainina blast, Tilia Uttle golden thread Dilates into a column high and vat, A forra of f ear and droad. And onward and across the setting bub, Across the boundless plain, The column and its broader shadows run, Till thought pursucB in vain. The visión vanishes ! these w-allB again Shut out the lurid Bun- Shut out the hot, immeaaurable plain - The halí-hour's Band is run.