OBELISK OF LUXOR,
IN THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE.
Thou here! What but a miracle could tear
Thee from thine old and favorite spot of birth?
And o'er the wave thy ponderous body bear,
Making thee thus at home in foreign earth?
While countless throngs with curious glance regard
Thy strange and sanguine face, with hieroglyphics scarred.
Thou hadst a tedious voyage, I suppose,
Sea-sickness and rough rocking,—was it so?
Thou wert as Jonah to the mariners,
I understand, and wrought them mickle woe;
And when the port was reached, they feared with pain
Thou ne'er wouldst raise thy head, or be thyself again.
Dost think thy brother Monolinth will dare,
Like thee, the dangers of the deep to meet?
I learn he has the viceroy's leave to take
The tour, his education to complete:
Thy warm, fraternal heart right glad would be
Here, in this stranger land, his honest face to see.
