IN THE PALM GROVES OF MEMPHIS
The Khamsin[1] comes robed in the Lybian sands,
Veiled in the haze of June,
Armed with Sahara's serpent-wreathed brands,
Shod with the sun and moon;
Swift winging in a cycloramic flame,—
Of Typhon born, unseeing and untame,—
She comes her reign of terror to proclaim,
While crowning day and night with all the blazonry of tropic noon.
She claps her iridescent wings, and lo!
The rolling heat,
Tremulous, reverberant, a-glow,
Sibilant, fleet,
Sweeps over the land with unabating ire,
Devouring Spring's heritage entire,
Setiing the very pyramids a-fire,
Engulfing even the turtle's shelter and the turtle-dove's retreat.
27
- ↑ A dry wind from the Sahara that prevails in Egypt about fifty days. Hence its name—Khamsin.
