Far from the sea, her sighing dunes
All wander lost beneath the moons
That wax and wane in an eternal sky;
Where subtle symphonies of light
And wondrous silences of night
Draw the four winds from their pavilions,
To rage across the stony plains,
To drive away the beating rains
Towards a pale haze on the horizon.
There a spear of sandstone towers;
Keeper of the daylight hours
And kindly magus of sweet soothing shade.
To him, when the winds are weary,
They go with eyes tired and teary
And briefly cease their warfare on the sands.