Till a bright wave breaks upon her,
And her clear perceptions wake—
All his valour, prowess, honour,
Scorn of life, for her poor sake!
Gently then her eyes she raises,
(Eyes, whence all the pure soul gazes)
Softly brings her lips to his—
Lips, wherein the whole heart is.
Let the furious waters welter,
Let the rough winds roar above;
Waves are warmth, and storms are shelter,
In the upper heaven of love.
XVIII
Fierce the flood, and wild the danger;
Yet the noble desert-ranger
Flinches not, nor flags, before
He hath brought them safe ashore.
Lives there man, who would have striven,
Reckless thus of storm and sword;
Leaped into the gulf, and given
Heart and soul, to please his Lord?
With caresses they have plied him,
Hand in hand they kneel beside him,
While their mutual vows they plight
To the God of life and light
XIX
Ha! What meaneth yon sword-flashing?
Trumps, and shouts from wave and isle?
Lo, the warrior galleys dashing,
To avenge insulted Nile!
Haste! The brave steed, leaping lightly,
'Neath his double burden sprightly,
Challenges, with scornful note,
Every horse in Pharaoh's boat.
King of Egypt, curb thy rages;
Lo, how trouble should be borne!
Memnon soothes the woe of ages,
With a sweet song, every morn.
