The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | ||
Lament for Osiris
‘Sing we Osiris dead,
Lament the fallen head:
The light has left the world, the world is gray.
Athwart the starry skies
The web of darkness flies,
And Isis weeps Osiris passed away.
Your tears, ye stars, ye fires, ye rivers, shed,
Weep, children of the Nile, weep for your lord is dead!’
Lament the fallen head:
The light has left the world, the world is gray.
Athwart the starry skies
The web of darkness flies,
And Isis weeps Osiris passed away.
Your tears, ye stars, ye fires, ye rivers, shed,
Weep, children of the Nile, weep for your lord is dead!’
‘Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling
Within the sanctuary sevenfold;
Soft on the dead that liveth are we calling:
“Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old.”’
Within the sanctuary sevenfold;
Soft on the dead that liveth are we calling:
“Return, Osiris, from thy Kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old.”’
‘Within the court divine
The sevenfold sacred shrine
We pass, while echoes of the temple walls
Repeat the long lament
The sound of sorrow sent
Far up within the imperishable halls,
Where, each in other's arms, the sisters weep,
Isis and Nephthys, o'er his unawaking sleep.’
The sevenfold sacred shrine
We pass, while echoes of the temple walls
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The sound of sorrow sent
Far up within the imperishable halls,
Where, each in other's arms, the sisters weep,
Isis and Nephthys, o'er his unawaking sleep.’
‘Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling
Within the sanctuary sevenfold;
Soft on the dead that liveth are we calling:
“Return, Osiris, from thy kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old.”’
Within the sanctuary sevenfold;
Soft on the dead that liveth are we calling:
“Return, Osiris, from thy kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old.”’
‘O dweller in the west,
Lover and lordliest,
Thy love, thy sister Isis, calls thee home!
Come from thy chamber dun
Thou master of the sun,
Thy shadowy chamber far below the foam!
With weary wings and spent
Through all the firmament,
Through all the horror-haunted ways of hell,
I seek thee near and far,
From star to wandering star,
Free with the dead that in Amenti dwell.
I search the height, the deep, the lands, the skies,
Rise from the dead and live, our lord Osiris, rise!’
‘Softly we tread, our measured footsteps falling
Within the sanctuary sevenfold;
Soft on the dead that liveth are we calling:
“Return, Osiris, from thy kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old.”’
Lover and lordliest,
Thy love, thy sister Isis, calls thee home!
Come from thy chamber dun
Thou master of the sun,
Thy shadowy chamber far below the foam!
With weary wings and spent
Through all the firmament,
Through all the horror-haunted ways of hell,
I seek thee near and far,
From star to wandering star,
Free with the dead that in Amenti dwell.
I search the height, the deep, the lands, the skies,
Rise from the dead and live, our lord Osiris, rise!’
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Within the sanctuary sevenfold;
Soft on the dead that liveth are we calling:
“Return, Osiris, from thy kingdom cold!
Return to them that worship thee of old.”’
The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | ||