The Portland daily press., 1874-07-15
POETRY.
Up the Nile.
BY JOAQUIN MILLER.

A grand old Neptune in the Prov,
With beard as blown by Wind of seas,
Gray browed, and stained with rain and storm;
A grizzled King. see him now
Stand up, look dreamily, look back
Along the low boats wrink!ed track,
Then fold a mantle around form
Broad built rs any Hercules;
And so sit silently.
The turhaned sea king sat his bride,
gre At sad beauty, in whose eyes
Lay all the peace of Paradise;
A sun-born blossom, rudely torn
From out the lilies, to be worn
Above as stern a beast as ere
Stood King at sea or anywhere.
A sad, sweet dreamer; one who knew
Not anything of earth at all,
Nor cared to know its bane or bliss;
A dove that did not touch the land.
And this may be because she drew
Her all of life right from the had
OF God, and did not choose to learn
The things that made up life's concern.
All! there be souls none can understand;
Like clouds they cannot uch the land,
Drive as they may by field or town.
Then we look wise and frown,
And we cry "Fool." and cry ''Iake hold
OF earth and fashion gods of gold.'
Upanchored ships that blow and blow,
Sail to and fro, and then go down
In unknown seas that none shall know,
Without one ripple OF renown;
Poor drifting dreamers sailing by,
That seem to only live to die.
Call these not fools; the test Of worth
Is not the hold you have on earth
Loi thele be gentlest souls sea-blown
That know not any harbors known;
And it may be the reason is
They touch on farer shores than this.
Her mouth was Egypt's mouth of old,
Pushed ont, and pouting full and bold
With simple beauty. Why her mouth
Was roses gathered from the south;
The warm south side of Paradise,
Then breathed upon and handed down
By angels on stair of stars.
Yea, you had loved her Tor her eyes
Her large and melancholy look
of tenderness, and well mistook
Her sadness for some soul a-frown
Forbidden at the golden bars.
That old abandoned beauty sat
About her mouth. Yea, you had said
This creature comes from out the dim
Far centuries. The worshper
OF old-time beauty, seeing her,
Had said: The great forgotten dead
OF fair dead Egypt on the rim
OF Times remotest reach is here
And Stnry. who wrought SEMI amis
And shaped the Sybils, seeing this,
Had barred his head, and, drawing near,
Had bowed, and made shrine thereof
And all his life had worshiped her.
That dreaminess that fills tire eyes
Or sun-born Pagan worshiper
Was hers. Her soul seemed far away;
She seemed to see still calmer skies
10 see the white waves leap and play
Round isles in some far middle seas;
See coral reels blown with white spume
by winds made sweet with the perfume
of trailing vines and leaning trees,
And she was very sad.
All day
Her two round hands, silk-soft and brown.
In her ungathered garments lay
Half-hid, and doubled hopelessly;
Ill day she did not speak or stir;
A II day she leaned her wistfully
And took no note at all; all day
Her black abundant hair fell down
In rippled currents over her.
AT night they touched the lily shore;
And we passed on in night inoeed,
Against the far white waterfall.
| saw no more, shall know no more
Of her for aye. And you who read
Thislbroken bit of dream will smile,
Half vexed, that saw aught at ALL
The wave struck strOphes in the reed,
And all the sad song of the oar
Was, Nevermore and nevermore
This side that other shore that lies
Like Nile below the Paradise.
AIRo, Egypt, 1874.