I did not reach thee,But my feet slip nearer every day;Three Rivers and a Hill to cross,One Desert and a Sea—I shall not count the journey one When I am telling thee.Two deserts—but the year is coldSo that will help the sand—One desert crossed, the second oneWill feel as cool as land. Sahara is too little priceTo pay for thy Right hand!The sea comes last. Step merry, feet!So short have we to goTo play together we are prone, But we must labor now,The last shall be the lightest loadThat we have had to draw.The Sun goes crooked—that is night—Before he makes the bend We must have passed the middle sea,Almost we wish the endWere further off—too great it seemsSo near the Whole to stand.We step like plush, we stand like snow— The waters murmur now,Three rivers and the hill are passed,Two deserts and the sea!Now Death usurps my premiumAnd gets the look at Thee.



