POEMS BY ISAAC ROSENBERG
Led you to me in whom she was thoroughly lost.
Pah, you sicken me!
[He is silent awhile, then turns away.]
Abinoah
Prince Imra is Pharaoh's choice now, and Koelue's.
[Moses turns back menacingly.]
Moses
Silence, you beast!
[He changes his tone to a winning softness.]
I hate these family quarrels: it is so
Like fratricide. I am a rebel, well?
Soft! You are not, and we are knit so close
It would be shame for a son to be so honoured
And the father still unknown: come, Koelue's (so my) father,
I'll tell my plans—you'll beg to be rebel then.
Look round on the night—
Old as the first, bleak, even her wish is done;
She has never seen, though dreamt perhaps of the sun,
Yet only dawn divides; could a miracle
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