248 OBELISK OF LUXOR.
Yet beautiful thou art in majesty,
As ancient oracle, from Delphic shrine, Which by the Ocean cast on foreign shore, Claims worship for its mysteries divine ; And Egypt hath been prodigally kind, Such noble gift to send, to keep her love in mind.
The earth whereon thou standest hath been red
And saturate with blood, and at the rush Of those who came to die, hath quaked with dread, As though its very depths did shrink and blush, Like Eden s soil, when first the purple tide It drank with shuddering lip, and to its Maker cried.
Be as a guardian to this new-found home,
That fondly wooed thee o er the billows blue, For t were a pity sure, to come so far,
And know so much, and yet no good to do : So, from the " Place la Concorde," blot the shame, And bid it lead a life more worthy of its name.
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