The Lament

I sigh as I sing for the story land

Across the Syrian sea.

The odorous winds from the musky sand

Were breaths of life to me.

They play with the plumes of the whisp'ring palm

For me, alas, no more.

No more does the Nile in the moonlit calm

Moan past the Memphian shore.

Nilus! thou God of my fainting soul,

In dreams thou comest to me,

And dreaming I play with the lotus bowl,

And sing sad songs to thee,

And hear from afar the Memnonian strain

And calls from dear Simbel,

And wake to a passion of grief and pain

That e'er I said Farewell.