Gebir

I sing the fates of Gebir. He had dwelt Among those mountain-caverns which retain His labours yet, vast halls and flowing wells, Nor have forgotten their old master’s name Though severed from his people here, incensed By meditating on primeval wrongs, He blew his battle-horn, at which uprose Whole nations; here, ten thousand of most might He called aloud, and soon Charoba saw His dark helm hover o’er the land of Nile,

What should the virgin do? should royal knees Bend suppliant, or defenceless hands engage Men of gigantic force, gigantic arms? For ’twas reported that nor sword sufficed, Nor shield immense nor coat of massive mail, But that upon their towering heads they bore Each a huge stone, refulgent as the stars. This told she Dalica, then cried aloud: “If on your bosom laying down my head I sobbed away the sorrows of a child, If I have always, and Heaven knows I have, Next to a mother’s held a nurse’s name, Succour this one distress, recall those days, Love me, though ’twere because you loved me then.”