The Valley Of The Nile.

Far as the sight can reach, beneath as clear     And blue a heaven as ever blest this sphere,     Gardens and pillared streets and porphyry domes     And high-built temples, fit to be the homes     Of mighty gods, and pyramids whose hour     Outlasts all time, above the waters tower!     Then, too, the scenes of pomp and joy that make     One theatre of this vast peopled lake,     Where all that Love, Religion, Commerce gives     Of life and motion, ever moves and lives,     Here, up in the steps of temples, from the wave     Ascending, in procession slow and grave,     Priests in white garments go, with sacred wands     And silver cymbals gleaming in their hands:     While there, rich barks--fresh from those sunny tracts     Far off, beyond the sounding cataracts--     Glide with their precious lading to the sea,     Plumes of bright birds, rhinoceros' ivory,     Gems from the isle of Mero, and those grains     Of gold, washed down by Abyssinian rains.     Here, where the waters wind into a bay     Shadowy and cool, some pilgrims on their way     To Sas or Bubastus, among beds     Of lotos flowers that close above their heads,     Push their light barks, and hid as in a bower     Sing, talk, or sleep away the sultry hour,     While haply, not far off, beneath a bank     Of blossoming acacias, many a prank     Is played in the cool current by a train     Of laughing nymphs, lovely as she whose chain     Around two conquerors of the world was cast;     But, for a third too feeble, broke at last.