| |
| WHEREFORE these revels that my dull eyes greet? | |
| These dancers, dancing at my fleshless feet; | |
| The harpers, harping vainly at my ears | |
| Deaf to the world, lo, thrice a thousand years! | |
| |
| Time was when even I was blithe: I knew | 5 |
| The murmur of the flowing wave, where grew | |
| The lean, lithe rushes; I have heard the moan | |
| Of Nilus in prophetic undertone. | |
| |
| My sire was monarch of a mighty race: | |
| Daughter of Pharaoh, I! before my face | 10 |
| Myriads of groveling creatures crawled, to thrust | |
| Their fearful foreheads in the desert dust. | |
| |
| Above me gleamed and glowed my palace walls: | |
| There bloomed my bowers; and there, my waterfalls | |
| Lulled me in languors; slaves with feather flails | 15 |
| Fretted the tranquil air to gentle gales. | |
| |
| O, my proud palms! my royal palms that stood | |
| In stately groups, a queenly sisterhood! | |
| And O, my sphinxes, gazing eye in eye, | |
| Down the dim vistas of eternity! | 20 |
| |
| Where be ye now? And where am I at last? | |
| With gay Bohemia is my portion cast: | |
| Born of the oldest East, I seek my rest | |
| In the fair city of the youngest West. | |
| |
| Farewell, O Egypt! Naught can thee avail: | 25 |
| What tarries now to tell thy sorry tale? | |
| A sunken temple that the sands have hid | |
| The tapering shadow of a pyramid! | |
| |
| And now, my children, harbor me not ill: | |
| I was a princess, am a woman still. | 30 |
| Gibe me no gibes, but greet me at your best, | |
| As I was wont to greet the stranger guest. | |
| |
| Feast well, drink well, make merry while ye may, | |
| For e’en the best of you must pass my way. | |
| The elder as the youngster, fair to see, | 35 |
Must gird his marble loins and follow me.
Bohemian Club, San Francisco. | |
| |
