Chorus of Egyptian Prisoners
Oh! we can remember the melons and vetches
That grew in our sunny and beautiful land,
Before the impure Babylonian wretches
Had covered our armies with cerements of sand!
Yea, we can remember the palm-crownéd vases,
With rivulets running more beautiful far
Than all the broad plains and the meadow-grown places
That girdle this town to the end of Shinar.
We think of our gods and our temples deserted,
Still glorious without us, while here we are slaves;
We go to our labor with damp eyes averted,
And dream of the spot of our ancestors' graves.
No more shall we see in its silvery splendor
The glittering rush of the fall of the Nile;
No more shall we hurry to crush the offender,
No more shall we bask in our sovereign's smile.
For Ammon, the king of all gods, has betrayed us,
And Knuphis, the god of oases, seems dead;
They sullenly let the Assyrian invade us,
And yet we will worship no gods in their stead!
Great Ptah with the cat, ever holy, as symbol,
And Khem, god of nature, has left us in woe,
Though often our feet and our fingers were nimble
To praise him with dances and harps long ago!
Oh Isis! Osiris! oh Ptah! do not leave us
To fruitlessly perish in agony here!
The gods of Assyria mock and deceive us!
Their mercy far more than their anger we fear!
Oh Nepti, thou mother of gods far above us!
Oh Ra, mighty sun we adore in the day!
Oh Thoth of the Ibis, who promised to love us!
Oh Min of the sunlight, pray lead us away!
Hail Pasht and Anieké, Maut, Tafné and Horus!
Hail Athor and Savak! In you we still trust!
Oh, join giant voices in one mighty chorus,
And level foul Babylon down to the dust!
And as they toiled and sweated with their bricks,
Fainting from fever when the stone rebelled,
A long procession of the city's dames,
All garlanded with lotus and sweet flowers,
With leather amulets upon their breasts,
Passed in unto the temple's square, where towered
The enormous golden phalli wreathed with leaves,
And on their tops communed a bearded priest,
Such was the law, for seven days and nights,
Such was the fashion of the Zir-basiet.
And all the women gazed upon the gold
And sang with fervor as they placed their wreaths:
That grew in our sunny and beautiful land,
Before the impure Babylonian wretches
Had covered our armies with cerements of sand!
Yea, we can remember the palm-crownéd vases,
With rivulets running more beautiful far
Than all the broad plains and the meadow-grown places
That girdle this town to the end of Shinar.
We think of our gods and our temples deserted,
Still glorious without us, while here we are slaves;
We go to our labor with damp eyes averted,
And dream of the spot of our ancestors' graves.
No more shall we see in its silvery splendor
The glittering rush of the fall of the Nile;
No more shall we hurry to crush the offender,
No more shall we bask in our sovereign's smile.
For Ammon, the king of all gods, has betrayed us,
And Knuphis, the god of oases, seems dead;
They sullenly let the Assyrian invade us,
And yet we will worship no gods in their stead!
Great Ptah with the cat, ever holy, as symbol,
And Khem, god of nature, has left us in woe,
Though often our feet and our fingers were nimble
To praise him with dances and harps long ago!
Oh Isis! Osiris! oh Ptah! do not leave us
To fruitlessly perish in agony here!
The gods of Assyria mock and deceive us!
Their mercy far more than their anger we fear!
Oh Nepti, thou mother of gods far above us!
Oh Ra, mighty sun we adore in the day!
Oh Thoth of the Ibis, who promised to love us!
Oh Min of the sunlight, pray lead us away!
Hail Pasht and Anieké, Maut, Tafné and Horus!
Hail Athor and Savak! In you we still trust!
Oh, join giant voices in one mighty chorus,
And level foul Babylon down to the dust!
And as they toiled and sweated with their bricks,
Fainting from fever when the stone rebelled,
A long procession of the city's dames,
All garlanded with lotus and sweet flowers,
With leather amulets upon their breasts,
Passed in unto the temple's square, where towered
The enormous golden phalli wreathed with leaves,
And on their tops communed a bearded priest,
Such was the law, for seven days and nights,
Such was the fashion of the Zir-basiet.
And all the women gazed upon the gold
And sang with fervor as they placed their wreaths:
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