We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
A PRINCESS OF THE DESERT a very long while; "thou, at last, 0 my Most Beautiful!" "Who—" she whispered, "who— art—thou?" The stranger laughed low and lifted her face to his. "Look well," he answered. "Dost not recognize me, 0 girl o' the gar- den ? Why, as soon as my eyes found thee my heart knew thee. Thou art my Dream awakened; the Bread I have long hungered for; the Wine for my thirst; thou art the Prayer I have often prayed." The Princess began to tremble. "What is it that hurts me— here?" one small hand pressed over her heart. He laughed again, tenderly, but did not answer her. And so they stood silent while the stars swung by over- head and the roses shed their petals in sweet death upon the grass. "Thou art not of the city?" she asked him then, noting, for the first time, his garb of the desert nomads. "I am a son of the sands," he answered proudly. "Now, tonight, am I for the first time in my life within a wall." "Why earnest thou hither?" His voice thrilled her. "Something drew me. I thought it was a dream, but it was Thou. Now know I that Allah is in- deed good, for He hath led me to thee." The moon-shadow length- ened; the goldfish in the fountain hung motionless in the blue depths; a dawn breeze, wandering across the garden wall, caressed the frail folds of her robe. The man stirred uneasily and gazed up at the sky. "Dawn cometh," he said; "I must be gone. Tell me, 0 Rose Girl, lives the old King Suleiman yet?" "Nay," the Princess faltered in surprise; "his daughter, Princess Nelia, reigneth. Why asketh thou of him, Son of the Desert?" "A whim." The stranger suddenly bent down and caught her white hands to his breast. She felt the great heart pounding beneath them, and her breath came quick and short: "Shall I not see thee another time? Say whether it be thy will or no." She looked up into his face as the rose looks up at the moon. Now, in- deed, had Life touched her in passing, and made her a woman. "It is my will, 0 stranger," she whispered. Their lips met above twin hearts. '' The Princess Nelia lives forever!'' The slaves knelt about her, plying great fans; merchants, bowing abject knees, displayed their wares for her. pleasure, flinging largess of crimson stuffs, vivid scarfs and filmy veils upon the floor. Scarcely she saw or heard for the sweet of her own IT IS MY WILL, O STRANGER