Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/184

184  The rose forgets its hue of red,— The mouldering temple sinks in shame, And all that majesty is dead Which awed so long astonish'd fame;— For freedom hath vanish'd and quench'd is the smile And darken'd the light in the eyes of the Nile.—

I meant not that from Egypt's brow Each charm by nature loved had past, No! still her genial summers glow, And toying with destruction's blast Her pyramids their shadows cast O'er emmet man:—I only said That liberty had breathed her last, And beauty from the brave had fled:— Ye may wonder and gaze, but can ye the while Dry the tear of the slave from the eyes of the Nile?

 

Scenes, where the charms of nature shine In radiant robes of art divine, Touch'd with mild grace, or throned on high With bold and broken majesty,— Scenes where the enraptured soul of song In garb historic sweeps along, Ruling with powerful key the cells Where love reclines, or terror dwells, Till touch'd with life the canvass swells, 