Of the sun: the music rose in lofty swells,
Then sank in cadences so soft and low
Till all the air grew tremulous with rapture.
The priests of On were there, with sacred palms
Within their hands and lotus leaves upon their
Brows; Pharaoh and his daughter sat waiting
In their regal chairs; all were ready to hear
Me bind my soul to Egypt, and to swear
Allegiance to her gods. The priests of On
Drew near to lay their hands upon my head