Ishmael

AND Ishmael crouched beside a crackling briar

Blinded with sand, and maddened by his thirst,

A derelict, though he know not why accursed.

And lo! One saw, and strung the dissonant lyre,

Made firm his bow unto the arrow's spire,

And gave him dates and wine. Then at the first

Flushings of dawn Ishmael arose, and burst

To triumphing freedom, ran, and eased desire.

His domain was the desert. None tamed him.

None bought or sold his spirit, though his hand

Dripped red against the dawn and sunset stain.

Thrones melted, kingdoms passed to the wodld's rim.

But Ishmael scourged the lion in Paran land,

And kept his faith with God. And he will reign.

Herbert E. Palmer