Bubbles of the Foam Page 5
by F. W. Bain
I
_Gazelle, gazelle, dost understandWhy the old skulls grin in this silent land?_My feet are fleet, and I drink at will,There is something blue in the distance still.
II
_But the old skulls grin in the silent waste,Gazelle, gazelle, make haste, make haste!_I travel fast, and I fear no ill,There is something blue in the distance still.
III
_The old skulls grinned in the silent sand,They beckoned her like a bony hand:Gazelle, gazelle, hast drunk thy fill?Is there something blue in the distance, still?_
KURANGI.
