 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
DEATH OF CLEOPATRA.
The stars of Egypt's haughty crown
Were settled on the brow,
And many a purple wave swept down
From royal dust below.
Girt with the realms that owned her power,
Enthroned in regal pride,
With priceless kingdoms for a dower,
Imperial beauty died.
Were settled on the brow,
And many a purple wave swept down
From royal dust below.
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Enthroned in regal pride,
With priceless kingdoms for a dower,
Imperial beauty died.
The spoils of cities overthrown
Her broad dominion lined;
With pearls her palaces were sown
As blossoms by the wind.
Her merchant-ships on every sea
The royal flag unrolled,
Laden with spices heavily
And fragrant oil and gold.
Her broad dominion lined;
With pearls her palaces were sown
As blossoms by the wind.
Her merchant-ships on every sea
The royal flag unrolled,
Laden with spices heavily
And fragrant oil and gold.
And yet from all the proud array
That gather round a throne,
The queen imperious turned away,
Sickened, and died alone.
How died she? Through her chamber dim
Did songs and victories roll?
And were there fervent prayer and hymn
Said for the parting soul?
That gather round a throne,
The queen imperious turned away,
Sickened, and died alone.
How died she? Through her chamber dim
Did songs and victories roll?
And were there fervent prayer and hymn
Said for the parting soul?
Not so: they brought her robes of state,
And decked her for the tomb,
And, cumbered with the gorgeous weight,
She proudly met her doom:
And o'er the hand of heavy clay
That once had guided wars,
In all their mocking beauty lay
The purple and the stars.
And decked her for the tomb,
And, cumbered with the gorgeous weight,
She proudly met her doom:
And o'er the hand of heavy clay
That once had guided wars,
In all their mocking beauty lay
The purple and the stars.
Earth lent her soul no power to stem
Such stormy waves as were;
And the sweet star of Bethlehem
Had risen not for her.
O Thou, who daily givest its beams,
Be the dark sins forgiven
Of her whose wild and mystic dreams
Were all she knew of Heaven.
Such stormy waves as were;
And the sweet star of Bethlehem
Had risen not for her.
O Thou, who daily givest its beams,
Be the dark sins forgiven
Of her whose wild and mystic dreams
Were all she knew of Heaven.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |