POEMS.
69
Were as the passing of a thought
To him whose madness had been wrought.
"Her God hath called this Death! Arise!
Break ye the spell in which she lies!
Say 'tis not this, for Egypt's pride,
For honour of your craft beside;
Unsay the words she spoke—that we
Were parted for eternity!
Give her to life again! and prove
Her God less mighty than my love!
Or in her creed I kneel and bow
Among the dust of earth this brow!
Proving, in mine idolatry,
That God is truth—man's might a lie!"
Silent the ruler bent him down
Beside the dead in his renown,
And listened for the coming breath,
To say he looked not upon Death.
And then upon his reason's night
There seemed to break a sudden light.
Starting, he mutely gazed around,
As seeking for some yearned-for sound
Of life within that lonely room
To wake the sleeper from her tomb.
The glance of that distended eye
Was laden with a mystery
That to the watchers seemed to say,
Madness had lent its glaring ray.
To him whose madness had been wrought.
"Her God hath called this Death! Arise!
Break ye the spell in which she lies!
Say 'tis not this, for Egypt's pride,
For honour of your craft beside;
Unsay the words she spoke—that we
Were parted for eternity!
Give her to life again! and prove
Her God less mighty than my love!
Or in her creed I kneel and bow
Among the dust of earth this brow!
Proving, in mine idolatry,
That God is truth—man's might a lie!"
Silent the ruler bent him down
Beside the dead in his renown,
And listened for the coming breath,
To say he looked not upon Death.
And then upon his reason's night
There seemed to break a sudden light.
Starting, he mutely gazed around,
As seeking for some yearned-for sound
Of life within that lonely room
To wake the sleeper from her tomb.
The glance of that distended eye
Was laden with a mystery
That to the watchers seemed to say,
Madness had lent its glaring ray.
