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And Osiris were unveiled before the people;Apis and Orus were crowned with flowers;Golden censers breathed their fragrance on the air;The sacrifice was smoking on the altar;The first fruits of the Nile lay on the tablesOf the sun: the music rose in lofty swells,Then sank in cadences so soft and lowTill all the air grew tremulous with rapture.The priests of On were there, with sacred palmsWithin their hands and lotus leaves upon theirBrows; Pharaoh and his daughter sat waitingIn their regal chairs; all were ready to hearMe bind my soul to Egypt, and to swearAllegiance to her gods. The priests of OnDrew near to lay their hands upon my headAnd bid me swear, 'Now, by Osiris, judgeOf all the dead, and Isis, mother of usAll,' that henceforth I'd forswear my kindred,Tribe and race; would have no other godsThan those of Egypt; would be engraftedInto Pharaoh's royal line, and be calledThe son of Pharaoh's daughter. Then, motherDear, I lived the past again. Again I satBeside thee, my lips apart with childishWonder, my eager eyes uplifted to thyGlowing face, and my young soul gatheringInspiration from thy words. Again I heardThee tell the grand traditions of our race,The blessed hopes and glorious promises
