From the desert I come to thee, On a stallion shod with fire; And the winds are left behind In the speed of my desire.
An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered.
There may come a day Which crowns Desire with gift, and Art with truth, And Love with bliss, and Life with wiser youth!
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