Classic Poem

Lorn land of silence, land of awe!
Lorn, lawless land of Moslem will,—
The great Law-giver and the law
Have gone away together. Still
The sun shines on; still Nilus darkly red
Steals on between his awful walls of dead.

And sapphire skies still bend as when
Proud Karnak's countless columns propped
The corners of the world; when men
Kept watch where massive Cheops topped
Their utmost reach of thought, and sagely drew
Their star-lit lines along the trackless blue.

But Phthah lies prostrate evermore;
And Thoth and Neith all are gone;
And huge Osiris hears no more,
Thebes' melodies; nor Mut at On;
Yet one lone obelisk still lords the spot
Where Plato sat to learn. But On is not.

Nor yet has Time encompassed all;
You trace your finger o'er a name
That mocks at age within the wall
Of fearful Karnak. Sword nor flame
Shall touch what men have journeyed far to touch
And felt eternity in daring such!

“Juda Melchi Shishak!” Read
The Holy Book; read how that he
With chariot and champing steed
Invaded far and fair Judea.
Yea, read the chronicle of red hands laid
On “shields of gold which Solomon had made.”