The Gods of Egypt

A song to you, you vanished Gods of Khem, 
Made by a dweller in the tents of Shem, 
And pray you hear me sing a little while 
Your mysteries withdrawn from banks of Nile 
That feel your scarabs basking in the sun, 
And hear your legends when the day is done. 
Lord Amen, in the dusk that dost abide 
Wilt thou not come forth, hearing lightly cried 
Thy name that none dare speak in those dim days 
Before the birth of minstrels that made praise 
To lilies woven in Taia's dusky hair — 
And roses that Rhodope's cheek made fair? 
But since the gloom that on thine eyelids lies 
Holds women very fair and very wise, 
Rhodope, Cleopatra, Nitocris — 
Is there for thee in darkness any bliss 
That there thou walkest with unhastening feet 
After the sunlight finding shadows sweet? 

Of old was Khem a Lily, white and gold, 
A slim Papyrus, goodly to behold: 
But now the Lily lifts a dying face, 
And withered is Papyrus in her place. 
Lady of reeds and lilies, now she stands, 
With wistful blinded eyes, and groping hands; 
Magicians cannot help her with their dreams, 
Rust eats the uraeus-crown, and Egypt seems — 
The flood upon her, and no friendly ark — 
A drowned maid drifting in the outer dark. 
No help remains in alien Gods she knew: 
No help in the strong Gods of Eridhu. 
There is no comfort more in any star: 
The Lily and Papyrus faded are. 

Each sunset vests dark Khem in gold and red, 
Yet Phrah and all the Pharaohs' fame is shed: 
Each sunrise hangs an opal on the brow 
Of the dumb Sphinx: but where is Sekhet now? 
What word of all his wisdom speaketh Seb? 
Neith sits and slumbers o'er her finished web; 
Nor cares she that from ringing shore to shore, 
Her builders' chisels give her praise no more: 
Nor that across her knees the lizards creep, 
Her wheel is still, and very sound her sleep. 
Anubis drowses by Amenti's gate, 
Thoth and his ibis keep a lonely state, 
Somewhere where lotus-lilies idly blow, 
And Selk amid her scorpions lieth low.