Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/The Burial in the Desert

For other versions of this work, see The Burial in the Desert.
2988047Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans — The Burial in the DesertFelicia Hemans


THE BURIAL IN THE DESERT.




How weeps yon gallant Band
O'er him their valour could not save!
For the bayonet is red with gore,
And he, the beautiful and brave,
Now sleeps in Egypt's sand.
Wilson.



In the shadow of the Pyramid
    Our brother's grave we made,
When the battle-day was done,
And the Desert's parting sun
    A field of death survey'd.


The blood-red sky above us
    Was darkening into night,
And the Arab watching silently
    Our sad and hurried rite.

The voice of Egypt's river
    Came hollow and profound,
And one lone palm-tree, where we stood,
    Rock'd with a shivery sound:

While the shadow of the Pyramid
    Hung o'er the grave we made,
When the battle-day was done,
And the Desert's parting sun
    A field of death survey'd.

The fathers of our brother
    Were borne to knightly tombs,
With torch-light and with anthem-note,
    And many waving plumes:


But he, the last and noblest
    Of that high Norman race,
With a few brief words of soldier-love
    Was gathered to his place;

In the shadow of the Pyramid,
    Where his youthful form we laid,
When the battle-day was done,
And the Desert's parting sun
    A field of death survey'd.

But let him, let him slumber
    By the old Egyptian wave!
It is well with those who bear their fame
    Unsullied to the grave!

When brightest names are breathed on,
    When loftiest fall so fast,
We would not call our brother back
    On dark days to be cast,


From the shadow of the Pyramid,
    Where his noble heart we laid,
When the battle-day was done,
And the Desert's parting sun
    A field of death survey'd.