The Irish republic. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1867-18??, 1868-03-28

Wreahed with lotus, girdaed with fresh chains
Moved through the rites amid the clash of sistrums,
Now and then broken by subterranean thunder,
As in some mystic pause the worshippers kneeling
The God invoked spake from the earths deep center.
At length arrived the hour when bright Nitocris
Beauteous in figure in soul heroic,
Bearing upon her brow the crown of Menfs,
Descended to the courtyard of the palace
Beneath whose walls stupendous, thronged the mobiles
Superb in robe and jewel, grave and courteous,
Whom, barring her fair forehead, she saluted
With royal pomp and smiles of mournful welcome;
And heading the procession, while deep music
Rose to the scntilant dome of the blue heaven
Proceeded, heraded by priests while westward
Bearing in their right hands rudy pine torches
Whose fame burnt the blue hight above the buildings
Throwing column and obelisks shifting shadows
This way and that along the stately high way,
Past the great temple of Ptah, the god of the city,
Along the sphynx-lined avenues to the pyramids
Shining with marble in the immensive presence
OF its more giant brethren twain, exhalting
Their peaks sublime amid the consultations
Firm EARTH perishless fronting eternity;
The while the many voiced Ministries chaunted
A hymn to the spirit of great Manduophs.
ooh god of Menfs, mighty Ptah Creator,
Father of Sch, whose years the planets number,
Look down from thy great temple on the structure
Where our dead king for yet will slumber,
And oh Atama, son of the under eher
Beyond the rolling day, where all the phantoms
Live, waiting for the restoring revolutions
Bear to his ghost our memories and our reverence,
Companion of the dead, and tell him looking
This night towards Egypt from the under vastness
His Queen has DER his treasured corse erected
A beauteous, strong and everlasting mansion,
AS well BELTS the home of the dead whose slumber
Is one of ages, likened with the living"
AS thus they sung the solemn paced procession
Wound round the temple fronting the great pyramid,
Beneath whose gate Niocris bowling entered
And through the long and narrow stony passage
Commenced descending to the sepulchral chamber
Followed alone by the selected feasters.
At intervals stood torch bearers like statues
Lighting the awful subterranean darkness
Heavy with odours of burned wood and spices;
But as from depth to depth the train descended
Through passages whose wndings seemed endless,
Fear fell on some who together whispered,
"Oh Ptah, preserve US! whittier will queen Nitocrs
Lead US p and others murmured, " We have spoken
To aged priests who companied the body
Of Cheops; but the passage that Kephrue
Shaped in the huger pyramid above
Was not sixth as deep as this whose ending
Seems the earth's center" Others more alarmed
Looking back, asked of those above them, whether
The touch gate had been closed but at that moment
They saw before them the long narrow chamber
Gorgeous with painting and with lamps,-and table
Heaped with rich fruits and flowers and Wines and
Ranged themselves round the board where the Queen
yelled
Safe radiant, with smiles and courteous graces;
And the feasters found their fears forgotten
In joyous converse, drinking deep the vintage
Of Meroe potent, gathered in old autumns,
Until to many brain the lamps and chamber
Reeed, swimming in haze of pleasant spendor,
While music and gentle as the Sunlight
That hovers when the golden orb has vanished
Remote upon the brink, or dying odors
From beds of flowers and from passages foated
The company with full cups had saluted
Their beaueous Queen who by the shining portal
When as one noble drained his golden goblet
With head thrown back, he felt upon his forehead
A water drop from the roof fall cold and shuddered