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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=456082" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Tombs of the Kings</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the mummied Kings of Egypt, wrapped in linen fold on fold, <br>Couched for ages in their coffins, crowned with crowns of dusky gold, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lie in subterranean chambers, biding to the day of doom, <br>Counterfeit life's hollow semblance in each mazy mountain tomb, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grisly in their gilded coffins, mocking masks of skin and bone, <br>Yet remain in change unchanging, balking Nature of her own; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mured in mighty Mausoleums, walled in from the night and day, <br>Lo, the mortal Kings of Egypt hold immortal Death at bay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For--so spake the Kings of Egypt--those colossal ones whose hand <br>Held the peoples from Pitasa to the Kheta's conquered land; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who, with flash and clash of lances and war-chariots, stormed and won <br>Many a town of stiff-necked Syria to high-towering Askalon: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;We have been the faithful stewards of the deathless gods on high; <br>We have built them starry temples underneath the starry sky. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;We have smitten rebel nations, as a child is whipped with rods: <br>We the living incarnation of imperishable gods. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Shall we suffer Death to trample us to nothingness? and must <br>We be scattered, as the whirlwind blows about the desert dust? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;No! Death shall not dare come near us, nor Corruption shall not lay <br>Hands upon our sacred bodies, incorruptible as day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Let us put a bit and bridle, and rein in Time's headlong course; <br>Let us ride him through the ages as a master rides his horse. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;On the changing earth unchanging let us bide till Time shall end, <br>Till, reborn in blest Osiris, mortal with Immortal blend.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yea, so spake the Kings of Egypt, they whose lightest word was law, <br>At whose nod the far-off nations cowered, stricken dumb with awe. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Fate left the haughty rulers to work out their monstrous doom; <br>And, embalmed with myrrh and ointments, they were carried to the tomb; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through the gate of Bab-el-Molouk, where the sulphur hills lie bare, <br>Where no green thing casts a shadow in the noon's tremendous glare; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the unveiled Blue of heaven in its bare intensity <br>Weighs upon the awe-struck spirit with the world's immensity; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through the Vale of Desolation, where no beast or bird draws breath, <br>To the Coffin-Hills of Tuat--the Metropolis of Death. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down--down--down into the darkness, where, on either hand, dread Fate, <br>In the semblance of a serpent, watches by the dolorous gate; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down--down--down into the darkness, where no gleam of sun or star <br>Sheds its purifying radiance from the living world afar; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where in labyrinthine windings, darkly hidden, down and down,-- <br>Proudly on his marble pillow, with old Egypt's double crown, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And his mien of cold commandment, grasping still his staff of state, <br>Rests the mightiest of the Pharaohs, whom the world surnamed the Great. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Swathed in fine Sidonian linen, crossed hands folded on the breast, <br>There the mummied Kings of Egypt lie within each painted chest. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And upon their dusky foreheads Pleiades of flaming gems, <br>Glowing through the nether darkness, flash from luminous diadems. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where is Memphis? Like a Mirage, melted into empty air: <br>But these royal gems yet sparkle richly on their raven hair. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where is Thebes in all her glory, with her gates of beaten gold? <br>Where Syenê, or that marvel, Heliopolis of old? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where is Edfu? Where Abydos? Where those pillared towns of yore <br>Whose auroral temples glittered by the Nile's thick-peopled shore? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone as evanescent cloudlands, Alplike in the afterglow; <br>But these Kings hold fast their bodies of four thousand years ago. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sealed up in their Mausoleums, in the bowels of the hills, <br>There they hide from dissolution and Death's swiftly grinding mills. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Scattering fire, Uræus serpents guard the Tombs' tremendous gate; <br>While Troth holds the trembling balance, weighs the heart and seals its fate. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And a multitude of mummies in the swaddling clothes of death, <br>Ferried o'er the sullen river, on and on still hasteneth. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And around them and above them, blazoned on the rocky walls, <br>Crowned with stars, enlaced by serpents, in divine processionals, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ibis-headed, jackal-featured, vulture-hooded, pass on high, <br>Gods on gods through Time's perspectives--pilgrims of Eternity. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There, revealed by fitful flashes, in a gloom that may be felt, <br>Wild Chimæras flash from darkness, glittering like Orion's belt. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And on high, o'er shining waters, in their barks the gods sail by, <br>In the Sunboat and the Moonboat, rowed across the rose-hued sky. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night, that was before Creation, watches sphinx-like, starred with eyes, <br>And the hours and days are passing, and the years and centuries. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But these mummied Kings of Egypt, pictures of a perished race, <br>Lie, of Death forgotten, face by immemorial face. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though the glorious sun above them, burning on the naked plain, <br>Clothes the empty wilderness with the golden, glowing grain; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though the balmy Moon above them, floating in the milky Blue, <br>Fills the empty wildernesses with a silver fall of dew; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though life comes and flies unresting, like the shadow which a dove <br>Casts upon the Sphinx, in passing, for a moment from above;-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still these mummied Kings of Egypt, wrapped in linen, fold on fold, <br>Bide through the ages in their coffins, crowned with crowns of dusky gold. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had the sun once brushed them lightly, or a breath of air, they must <br>Instantaneously have crumbled into evanescent dust. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pale and passive in their prisons, they have conquered, chained to death; <br>And their lineaments look living now as when they last drew breath! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have they conquered? Oh the pity of those Kings within their tombs, <br>Locked in stony isolation in those petrifying glooms! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Motionless where all is motion in a rolling Universe, <br>Heaven, by answering their prayer, turned it to a deadly curse. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Left them fixed where all is fluid in a world of star-winged skies; <br>Where, in myriad transformations, all things pass and nothing dies; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothing dies but what is tethered, kept when Time would set it free, <br>To fulfil Thought's yearning tension upward through Eternity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mathilde+Blind">Mathilde Blind</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=456082" data-title="The Tombs of the Kings de Mathilde Blind" data-description="Where the mummied Kings of Egypt, wrapped in linen fold on fold, 
Couched for ages in their coffins, crowned with crowns of dusky gold, 

Lie in subterranean chambers, biding to the day of doom, 
Counterfeit life's hollow semblance in each mazy mo..."></div>
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