She sat a little longer, and he grew
Ghastly and faint, as if he would have died.
It was too much for her, she lifted him,
And bore him further on, and laid his head
Beneath the shadow of a desert shrub;
And, shrouding up her face, she went away,
And sat to watch where he could see her not,
Till he should die; and watching him, she mourned:
"God stay thee in thine agony, my boy!
I cannot see thee die; I cannot brook
Upon thy brow to look,
And see death settle on my cradle-joy.
How have I drunk the light of thy blue eye!
And could I see thee die?
"I did not dream of this when thou wert straying,
Like an unbound gazelle, among the flowers;
Or wearing rosy hours,
By the rich gush of water-sources playing,
Then sinking weary to thy smiling sleep,
So beautiful and deep.
"O, no! and when I watch'd by thee the while,
And saw thy bright lip curling in thy dream,
And thought of the dark stream
In my own land of Egypt, the far Nile,
How pray'd I that my father's land might be
An heritage for thee!
"And now the grave for its cold breast hath won thee,
And thy white, delicate limbs the earth will press;
And, O, my last caress
Must feel thee cold, for a chill hand is on thee.
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