A Bed of Flame

I saw one day on the horizon grey,
      As with my load I wandered near the sea,
            A whiff of smoke embrace the sleeping sun;
            And just as their enchantment had begun,
      A lonely cloud that roved above the lea
Passed by their couch and hid them from the day.

I saw this and my soul, long silent, cried:
      “Would that I were the whiff of smoke
            Now sleeping with the sun!
In beds of flame, how often was I tried,—
      How often have I ’neath the stroke
            Of God or Satan shone!”

From Myrtle and Myrrh (The Gorham Press, 1905) by Ameen Rihani. This poem is in the public domain.