Idylls and Lyrics of The Nile By H. D. Rawnsley |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. | XXVII AT JOSEPH'S TOMB |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXII. |
| LXIV. |
 | Idylls and Lyrics of The Nile |  |
61
XXVII AT JOSEPH'S TOMB
(SAKKARAH)
Beyond the ruinous heap of stone and sand
That one time hid King Teta in its cave,
Across the beans and lentils looks a grave,
Whose doors wide open stand.
That one time hid King Teta in its cave,
Across the beans and lentils looks a grave,
Whose doors wide open stand.
And here, men say, still lingers on the name
Of him who strongly ruled a stubborn race,
So gentle-hearted, that he hid his face
When his young brother came.
Of him who strongly ruled a stubborn race,
So gentle-hearted, that he hid his face
When his young brother came.
And they who gaze from Joseph's tomb, may know
In truth the dreams that troubled Pharaoh's bed,
May see the lean kine and the kine full-fed
Pass from the pool below.
In truth the dreams that troubled Pharaoh's bed,
May see the lean kine and the kine full-fed
Pass from the pool below.
But in my dream I hear, far off, the groans
Of people mad for toil and tyranny,
Who come with haste and with a bitter cry
To claim their father's bones.
Of people mad for toil and tyranny,
Who come with haste and with a bitter cry
To claim their father's bones.
62
Up from the boats, and thro' the burning sand,
They seek, deep sunk in earth, the painted chest,
To bear the heart, that here would never rest,
Home to his native land.
They seek, deep sunk in earth, the painted chest,
To bear the heart, that here would never rest,
Home to his native land.
They leave the tomb, they flee the white-walled town,
—
Fearful they came, in trembling haste they go,
And o'er the land of terror and of woe
Blood-red the sun drops down.
Fearful they came, in trembling haste they go,
And o'er the land of terror and of woe
Blood-red the sun drops down.
| Idylls and Lyrics of The Nile | |