No comments Coming out of the Desert, 1823
Moyle Sherer
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| Egyptian Eastern Desert |
It was soon after daybreak, on the morrow, just as the sun was beginning to give his rich colouring of golden yellow to the white pale sand; that as I was walking alone at some distance far ahead of my companions, my eyes bent On the ground, and lost in thought, their kind and directing shout made me stop, and raise my head, when, lo! a green vale, looking through the soft mist of morning, rather a vision, than a reality, lay stretched in its narrow length before me. The Land of Egypt! We hurried panting on, and gazed, and were silent. The caravan halted in a village with a large brimming water-trough for the thirsting camels.
We walked forth into the fields, saw luxuriant crops of green bearded wheat, waving with its lights and shadows; stood under the shade of trees, saw fluttering and chirping birds; went down to a well and a water-wheel, and stood like children listening to the sound of the abundant and bright-flashing water as it fell from the circling pots . . .