The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang Edited by Mrs. Lang |
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The Awaking of Osiris
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 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
225
The Awaking of Osiris
‘He wakes—from forth the prison
We sing Osiris risen,
We sing the child that Nout conceived and bare.
Thine own love, Isis, waits
The Warden of the gates,
She breathes the breath of life on breast and hair.
And in her breast and breath
Behold! he wakeneth,
Behold! at length he riseth out of rest;
Touched with her holy hands,
The lord of all the lands,
He stirs, he rises from her breath, her breast!
But thou, fell Typhon, fly,
The judgment day drawn nigh,
Fleet on thy track as flame speeds Horus from the sky.’
We sing Osiris risen,
We sing the child that Nout conceived and bare.
Thine own love, Isis, waits
The Warden of the gates,
She breathes the breath of life on breast and hair.
And in her breast and breath
Behold! he wakeneth,
Behold! at length he riseth out of rest;
Touched with her holy hands,
The lord of all the lands,
He stirs, he rises from her breath, her breast!
But thou, fell Typhon, fly,
The judgment day drawn nigh,
Fleet on thy track as flame speeds Horus from the sky.’
‘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.”
226
‘Sing we the trinity,
Sing we the holy three,
Sing we, and praise we and worship the throne;
Throne that our lord hath set—
There peace and truth are met
There in the Halls of the Holy alone!
There in the shadowings
Faint of the folded wings,
Sing we the holy three,
Sing we, and praise we and worship the throne;
Throne that our lord hath set—
There peace and truth are met
There in the Halls of the Holy alone!
There in the shadowings
Faint of the folded wings,
‘There shall we dwell and rejoice in our rest;
We that thy servants are!
Horus drive ill afar!
Far in the folds of the dark of the west!’
We that thy servants are!
Horus drive ill afar!
Far in the folds of the dark of the west!’
‘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.”’
‘Osiris our hope! Osiris! Osiris!’
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |