The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore :: :: University of Virginia Library

“As o'er the lake, in evening's glow,
That temple threw its lengthening shade,
Upon the marble steps below
There sate a fair Corinthian maid,
Gracefully o'er some volume bending;
While, by her side, the youthful Sage
Held back her ringlets, lest, descending,
They should o'er-shadow all the page.”

[Oh, were it not for this sad voice]

Oh, were it not for this sad voice,
Stealing amid our mirth to say,
That all, in which we most rejoice,
Ere night may be the earth-worm's prey;—
But for this bitter—only this—
Full as the world is brimm'd with bliss,
And capable as feels my soul
Of draining to its depth the whole,
I should turn earth to heaven, and be,
If bliss made gods, a deity!

[Oracles, truer far than oak]

Oracles, truer far than oak
Or dove, or tripod, ever spoke.

[Th' imbrowning of the fruit, that tells]

Th' imbrowning of the fruit, that tells,
How rich within the soul of sweetness dwells.

[While, far as sight could reach, beneath as clear]

While, far as sight could reach, beneath as clear
And blue a heaven as ever bless'd this sphere,
Gardens, and pillar'd streets, and porphyry domes,
And high-built temples, fit to be the homes
Of mighty gods—and pyramids, whose hour
Outlasts all time, above the waters tower!

Then, too, the scenes of pomp and joy, that make
One theatre of this vast peopled lake,
Where all that Love, Religion, Commerce gives
Of life and motion, ever moves and lives.
Here, up the steps of temples, from the wave
Ascending, in procession slow and grave,
Priests, in white garments, go, with sacred wands
And silver cymbals gleaming in their hands:
While, there, rich barks—fresh from those sunny tracts
Far off, beyond the sounding cataracts—
Glide with their precious lading to the sea,
Plumes of bright birds, rhinoceros' ivory,
Gems from the Isle of Meröe, and those grains
Of gold, wash'd down by Abyssinian rains.

Here, where the waters wind into a bay
Shadowy and cool, some pilgrims on their way

To Saïs or Bubastus, among beds
Of lotus-flowers , that close above their heads,
Push their light barks, and hid, as in a bower,
Sing, talk, or sleep away the sultry hour;
While haply, not far off, beneath a bank
Of blossoming acacias, many a prank
Is play'd in the cool current by a train
Of laughing nymphs, lovely as she, whose chain
Around two conquerors of the world was cast
But, for a third too feeble, broke at last!

Vide Strabo.

[whose beams]

On a little island, half-way over between the gardens of Memphis and the eastern shore, stood the temple of that goddess,

whose beams
Bring the sweet time of night-flowers and dreams.
Not the cold Dian of the North, who chains
In vestal ice the current of young veins;
But she, who haunts the gay, Bubastian grove,
And owns she sees, from her bright heav'n above,
Nothing on earth, to match that heav'n, but love!

For Bubastis, the Diana of the Egyptians. —Vide Jablonski, lib. iii. cap. 4.

[“Fair Rhodope]

“Fair Rhodope , as story tells,
The bright unearthly nymph, who dwells
'Mid sunless gold and jewels hid,
The Lady of the Pyramid!”

From the story of Rhodope, Zoega thinks, “videntur Arabes ansam arripuisse ut in una ex pyramidibus, genii loco, habitare dicerent mulierem nudam insignis pulchritudinis quæ aspecto suo homines insanire faciat.” De Usu Obeliscorum. See also L' Egypte de Murtadi par Vattier.

[“Light as a lime-bush, that receives]

“Light as a lime-bush, that receives
Some wandering bird among its leaves.”

[You, who would try]

You, who would try
Yon terrible track,
To live, or to die,
But ne'er to look back.—

You, who aspire
To be purified there,
By the terrors of Fire,
Of Water, and Air—

If danger, and pain,
And death you despise,
On—for again
Into light you shall rise;

Rise into light
With that Secret Divine,
Now shrouded from sight
By the Veils of the Shrine

But if ------

Here the letters faded away into a dead blank, more awfully intelligible than the most eloquent words.

[“Drink of this cup—Osiris]

“Drink of this cup—Osiris sips
The same in his halls below;
And the same he gives, to cool the lips
Of the Dead who downward go.

“Drink of this cup—the water within
Is fresh from Lethe's stream;
'Twill make the past, with all its sin,
And all its pain and sorrows, seem
Like a long-forgotten dream!

“The pleasure, whose charms
Are steep'd in woe;
The knowledge, that harms
The soul to know;

“The hope, that, bright
As the lake of the waste,
Allures the sight,
But mocks the taste;

“The love that binds
Its innocent wreath,
Where the serpent winds,
In venom, beneath;—

“All that, of evil or false, by thee
Hath ever been known or seen,
Shall melt away in this cup, and be
Forgot, as it never had been!”

Osiris, under the name of Serapis, was supposed to rule over the subterranean world; and performed the office of Pluto, in the mythology of the Egyptians. “They believed,” says Dr. Pritchard, “that Serapis presided over the region of departed souls, during the period of their absence, when languishing without bodies, and that the dead were deposited in his palace.” Analysis of the Egyptian Mythology.

“Frigidam illam aquam post mortem, tanquam Hebes poculum, expetitam.” Zoega.—The Lethe of the Egyptians was called Ameles. See Dupuis, tom. viii. p. 651.

[“Drink of this cup—when Isis led]

“Drink of this cup—when Isis led
Her boy, of old to the beaming sky,
She mingled a draught divine , and said—
‘Drink of this cup, thou'lt never die!’

“Thus do I say and sing to thee,
Heir of that boundless heav'n on high,
Though frail, and fall'n, and lost thou be,
Drink of this cup, thou'lt never die!”

“And Memory, too, with her dreams shall come,
Dreams of a former, happier day,
When Heaven was still the Spirit's home,
And her wings had not yet fallen away;

“Glimpses of glory, ne'er forgot,
That tell, like gleams on a sunset sea,
What once hath been, what now is not,
But, oh, what again shall brightly be.”

The της αθανασιας φαρμακον, which, according to Diodorus Siculus, Isis prepared for her son Orus. —Lib. i.

209

[“Oh! Abyssinian tree]

“Oh! Abyssinian tree,
We pray, we pray to thee;
By the glow of thy golden fruit,
And the violet hue of thy flower,
And the greeting mute
Of thy bough's salute
To the stranger who seeks thy bower.

“Oh! Abyssinian tree,
How the traveller blesses thee,
When the night no moon allows,
And the sunset hour is near,
And thou bend'st thy boughs
To kiss his brows,
Saying, ‘Come rest thee here.’
Oh! Abyssinian tree,
Thus bow thy head to me!”

See an account of this sensitive tree, which bends down its branches to those who approach it, in M. Jomard's Description of Syene and the Cataracts.

232

[------ on one of those sweet nights]

The looks and attitudes of the young people denoted that they were lovers; and, sometimes, they were seen sitting under a canopy of flowers, with their eyes fixed on each other's faces, as though they could never look away; sometimes, they appeared walking along the banks of the Nile,—

233

------ on one of those sweet nights
When Isis, the pure star of lovers , lights
Her bridal crescent o'er the holy stream—
When wandering youths and maidens watch her beam,
And number o'er the nights she hath to run,
Ere she again embrace her bridegroom sun.

Vide Plutarch. de Isid.

“Conjunctio solis cum luna, quod est veluti utriusque connubium.” Jablonski.

238

[------ the glorious stream]

On the opposite shore, rich plains, all teeming with cultivation to the water's edge, seemed to offer up, as from verdant altars, their fruits to the sun; while, beneath us, the Nile,—

------ the glorious stream,
That late between its banks was seen to glide—
With shrines and marble cities, on each side,
Glittering, like jewels strung along a chain—
Had now sent forth its waters, and o'er plain
And valley, like a giant from his bed
Rising with outstretch'd limbs, superbly spread.