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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534020" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Moses On The Nile</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Sisters! the wave is freshest in the ray<br>Of the young morning; the reapers are asleep;<br>The river bank is lonely: come away!<br>The early murmurs of old Memphis creep<br>Faint on my ear; and here unseen we stray,--<br>Deep in the covert of the grove withdrawn,<br>Save by the dewy eye-glance of the dawn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Within my father's palace, fair to see,<br>Shine all the Arts, but oh! this river side,<br>Pranked with gay flowers, is dearer far to me<br>Than gold and porphyry vases bright and wide;<br>How glad in heaven the song-bird carols free!<br>Sweeter these zephyrs float than all the showers<br>Of costly odors in our royal bowers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The sky is pure, the sparkling stream is clear:<br>Unloose your zones, my maidens! and fling down<br>To float awhile upon these bushes near<br>Your blue transparent robes: take off my crown,<br>And take away my jealous veil; for here<br>To-day we shall be joyous while we lave<br>Our limbs amid the murmur of the wave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hasten; but through the fleecy mists of morn,<br>What do I see? Look ye along the stream!<br>Nay, timid maidens--we must not return!<br>Coursing along the current, it would seem<br>An ancient palm-tree to the deep sea borne,<br>That from the distant wilderness proceeds,<br>Downwards, to view our wondrous Pyramids.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But stay! if I may surely trust mine eye,--<br>It is the bark of Hermes, or the shell<br>Of Iris, wafted gently to the sighs<br>Of the light breeze along the rippling swell;<br>But no: it is a skiff where sweetly lies<br>An infant slumbering, and his peaceful rest<br>Looks as if pillowed on his mother's breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'He sleeps--oh, see! his little floating bed<br>Swims on the mighty river's fickle flow,<br>A white dove's nest; and there at hazard led<br>By the faint winds, and wandering to and fro,<br>The cot comes down; beneath his quiet head<br>The gulfs are moving, and each threatening wave<br>Appears to rock the child upon a grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'He wakes--ah, maids of Memphis! haste, oh, haste!<br>He cries! alas!--What mother could confide<br>Her offspring to the wild and watery waste?<br>He stretches out his arms, the rippling tide<br>Murmurs around him, where all rudely placed,<br>He rests but with a few frail reeds beneath,<br>Between such helpless innocence and death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh! take him up! Perchance he is of those<br>Dark sons of Israel whom my sire proscribes;<br>Ah! cruel was the mandate that arose<br>Against most guiltless of the stranger tribes!<br>Poor child! my heart is yearning for his woes,<br>I would I were his mother; but I'll give<br>If not his birth, at least the claim to live.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus Iphis spoke; the royal hope and pride<br>Of a great monarch; while her damsels nigh,<br>Wandered along the Nile's meandering side;<br>And these diminished beauties, standing by<br>The trembling mother; watching with eyes wide<br>Their graceful mistress, admired her as stood,<br>More lovely than the genius of the flood!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The waters broken by her delicate feet<br>Receive the eager wader, as alone<br>By gentlest pity led, she strives to meet<br>The wakened babe; and, see, the prize is won!<br>She holds the weeping burden with a sweet<br>And virgin glow of pride upon her brow,<br>That knew no flush save modesty's till now.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Opening with cautious hands the reedy couch,<br>She brought the rescued infant slowly out<br>Beyond the humid sands; at her approach<br>Her curious maidens hurried round about<br>To kiss the new-born brow with gentlest touch;<br>Greeting the child with smiles, and bending nigh<br>Their faces o'er his large, astonished eye!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Haste thou who, from afar, in doubt and fear,<br>Dost watch, with straining eyes, the fated boy--<br>The loved of heaven! come like a stranger near,<br>And clasp young Moses with maternal joy;<br>Nor fear the speechless transport and the tear<br>Will e'er betray thy fond and hidden claim,<br>For Iphis knows not yet a mother's name!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With a glad heart, and a triumphal face,<br>The princess to the haughty Pharaoh led<br>The humble infant of a hated race,<br>Bathed with the bitter tears a parent shed;<br>While loudly pealing round the holy place<br>Of Heaven's white Throne, the voice of angel choirs<br>Intoned the theme of their undying lyres!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'No longer mourn thy pilgrimage below--<br>O Jacob! let thy tears no longer swell<br>The torrent of the Egyptian river: Lo!<br>Soon on the Jordan's banks thy tents shall dwell;<br>And Goshen shall behold thy people go<br>Despite the power of Egypt's law and brand,<br>From their sad thrall to Canaan's promised land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The King of Plagues, the Chosen of Sinai,<br>Is he that, o'er the rushing waters driven,<br>A vigorous hand hath rescued for the sky;<br>Ye whose proud hearts disown the ways of heaven!<br>Attend, be humble! for its power is nigh<br>Israel! a cradle shall redeem thy worth--<br>A Cradle yet shall save the widespread earth!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Victor+Hugo">Victor Hugo</a><div class=q>
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Of the young morning; the reapers are asleep;
The river bank is lonely: come away!
The early murmurs of old Memphis creep
Faint on my ear; and here unseen we stray,--
Deep in the covert of the grove withdr..."></div>
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