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MER-EN-MUT
“What a delicate odor of spice!” I said
And I looked where the cloths they had just unwrapped
Left bare the blackened form of the dead
—Three thousand years since her life had speed!
And I looked where the cloths they had just unwrapped
Left bare the blackened form of the dead
—Three thousand years since her life had speed!
Faint as the dying notes of a lute
When the fingers have ceased to touch the strings!
What had sound or scent to do with that mute
Dry dust—the life-tree's Dead-Sea fruit!
When the fingers have ceased to touch the strings!
What had sound or scent to do with that mute
Dry dust—the life-tree's Dead-Sea fruit!
73
It came like the subtile half-unguessed
Mixture of unknown memories
That thrill our minds with a vague unrest
At the thought of some long-lost dear heart's guest.
Mixture of unknown memories
That thrill our minds with a vague unrest
At the thought of some long-lost dear heart's guest.
And across my soul came the dream of the scent
Of violets there in my escritoire
—Violets she gave me once while I bent
My face o'er her fingers, quite content.
Of violets there in my escritoire
—Violets she gave me once while I bent
My face o'er her fingers, quite content.
And the dream-scent seemed in a strange dim way
Like the dead sweet scent of a mummied love.
Will it rise again at the Last Great Day
With the princess here? Shall the wise dare say!
Like the dead sweet scent of a mummied love.
Will it rise again at the Last Great Day
With the princess here? Shall the wise dare say!
1887.
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