Page:Potipharswifeoth00arnoiala.djvu/40



was fear and desolation over Egypt's swarthy land

From the holy city of the Sun to hot Syëne's sand:

The sistrum and the cymbal slept, the dancing women beat

No measure to the pipe and drum, with silver-slippered feet:

For the Daughter of the King must die, the dark magicians said

Before once more the Moon-God Khuns should lift his hornèd head.

And, all those days, the temple-smoke loaded the heavy air

With prayers to Set the Terrible, who heareth not, to hear;