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" Douglas, Douglas, tendir and trew." Dinah Mabia Mulooh.
Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas,
In the old likeness that I knew, I would be so faithful, so loving, Douglas,
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.
Never a scornful word should grieve ye, I'd smile on ye sweet as the angels do�
Sweet as your smile on me shone ever, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.
Oh, to call back the days that are not!
My eyes were blinded, your words were few; Do you know the truth now up in heaven,
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true ?
I never was worthy of you, Douglas;
Not half worthy the like of you: Now all men beside seem to me like shadows;
I love you, Douglas, tender and true.
Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas, Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew ;
As I lay my heart on your dead heart, Douglas, Douglas, Douglas, tender and true!
That day the gonfalons were down, the silver lamps untrimmed;
Sad at their oars the rowers sat, silent the Nile boat skimmed;
And through the land there went a wail of bit�terest agony,
From the iron hills of Nubia to the islands of the sea.
There, in the very hall where once her laugh had loudest been,
Where but that moruing she had worn the wreath of Beauty's Queen,
She lay, a lost but lovely thing; the wreath was on her brow,
Alas! the lotus might not match its chilly pale�ness now;
And ever as that golden light sunk lower in the sky,
Her breath came fainter, and the beam seemed fading in her eye.
Her coal-black hair was tangled, and the sigh of
parting day Stirred tremblingly its silky folds as on her breast
they lay; How heavily her rounded arm lay buried by her side! How droopingly her lashes seemed those star-bright
eyes to hide! And once there played upon her lips a smile like
summer air, As though Death came with gentle face, and she
mocked her idle fear.
Low o'er the dying maiden's form the king and father bows,
Stern anguish holds the place of pride upon the monarch's brows:
" My daughter, in the world thou leav'st so dark without thy smile,
Hast thou one care a father's love�a king's word may beguile ?
Hast thou one last light wish ? 'Tis thine, by Isis' throne on high,
If Egypt's blood can win it thee, or Egypt's treas�ure buy."
How anxiously he waits her words! Upon the
painted wall, In long gold lines, the dying light between the
columns fall; It lends her sinking limbs a glow, her pallid cheek
a blush ; And on her lifted lashes throws a fitful, lingering
THE EGYPTIAN PRINCESS.
[Herodotus, Book II., Chap. 132.]
There was fear and desolation over swarthy Egypt's land,
From the holy city of the sun to hot Syene's sand;
The sistrum and cymbal slept, the merry dance no more
Trampled the evening river buds by Nile's em�broidered shore;
For the daughter of the king must die, the dark magicians said,
Before the red had sunk to rest that day in ocean's bed.
And all that day the temple smoke loaded the
heavy air ; But they prayed to one who heedeth none, nor
heareth earnest prayer.