HPB-SB-3-20

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vol. 3, p. 20
H.P.Blavatsky Scrapbooks
from Adyar arhives of the International Theosophical Society
vol. 3 (1875-1878)
 

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engрус



The Ancient City
<continued from page 3-18>


...

Follow Thou Me

A desert, a shadeless desert;
Oh, wildly the storm doth sweep !
And I bury my unprotected head
In the pitiless sand and weep.

The wild winds sweep around me,
Moaning, in hopeless song :
“ ’Tis nothing but sandy desert
Forever and ever on.

“ No shady land of peace
Will gladden your heavy eye.
Oh, give the hopeless journey o’er
Rise not—lie here and die.”

But a ridge o’er the sandy desert–
A track, o’er the dusty plain,
Sends hope to my fainting heart,
And I start on my journey again
For I know that One before me
Hath travelled the desert o’er ;
Thank God ! for that print in the sand,
Where a foot hath trod before !