• Proud, languid lily of the sacred Nile,
    ’T is strange to see thee on our Western wave,
    Far from those sandy shores, that mile on mile,
    Papyrus-plumed, stretch silent as the grave.

    O’er dark, mysterious pool and sheltered bay,
    And round deep dreaming isles thy leaves expand,
    Where Alexandrian barges plough their way,
    Full-freighted, to...

  • I.
    “courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land;
    “This morning wave shall roll us shoreward soon.”
    In the afternoon they came unto a land
    In which it seemed always afternoon.
    All round the coast the languid air did swoon,
    Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
    Full-faced above the valley stood the moon:
    And, like a downward...