By Veldt and Kopje

By Veldt and Kopje

AFRICA Sphinx among continents,the Nations strive To guess my ancient riddle; Greece essayed She drooped to death; upon me Rome set gyve She sank in her own bonds. The Persian laid His life down mid my deserts. For a day I smiled on each, then tore them for my play. THE SAHARA The ghosts of buried cities scale the air When Day wakes my mirage. The lion keeps My iron hills. The bones of men lie bare Where my thirst-sickle its rich harvest reaps. Time, like a little child, amid my sands Builds and unbuilds with feeble, listless hands. EGYPT The gods who dwell mid equatorial snows Bade Nilus cleave the waste, and I awoke. A giant, robed in mystery, I arose; The young world listened, breathless, when I spoke. My Sphinx Times sister is; her brood lies hid Where dream the dead neath rock and pyramid. CARTHAGE Sidon sent forth her sons, her sons sent Tyre; The Deserts daughters bore a mighty race. The God whose brazen hands sloped to the fire Reared oer me the red terror of his face. Rome, vengeful, trod me to the dust, and strowed With salt the site where once my powers abode. ALEXANDRIA The godlike Alexander wavd his sword; Beneath its spell rose palace, mart and school, No gold so precious as my lightest word; My logos still the Faith of Man doth rule. Greek, Roman and Barbarian, East and West, Drank lore like milk from my most bounteous breast. MOUNT ATLAS Time haled the great Globe from my aching back And hung it mid the stars. Content I rest, The oceans murmured music at my feet, The foldless flocks of cloudland round my crest. Pan walks with Faunus through my dreaming woods, And Dryads pace my leafy solitudes. RUWENZORI A diadem of changeless snow lies light Upon my regal head; my locks I shake, And, straightway, living waters take their flight. The iron bonds of Ancient Drought to break. A virgin, new-unveiled, I stand alone; Aeons will pass, but none unclasp my zone. THE LAKES Hand seeking hand, a peerless sisterhood, We watched for dawn through dark of murdrous years Our sky-pure fringes mired with human blood, Our rain-sweet wavelets salt with human tears. Our tideless glasses gleam resplendently High oer the rockings of the restless sea. THE CONGO Through jungles spawned from fever-drunken sod Where, sleeplessly, the foul man-hunters hide. The bitter lees from Gods dread wine-press trod By desperate feet, drain down my tepid tide. Leviathan there wallows in his wrath; There range the hordes of mighty Behemoth. THE ZAMBEZI The spoils the sky had of the world-wide main I bear, new-gathered from ten thousand rills To where the thundrous gates my steps enchain, Clogged with the wastage of a million hills. Thence, breaking forth in triumph, full and free, I render back my booty to the sea. ZIMBABWE I housed the brood of Carthage; they the earth Deep rifled for its treasure. On me fell The hand of Doom. No rumour speaks my birth, No legend shrines my death. My citadel Glares at the cold fane of my obscene god, Oer which the feet of ancient ruin trod. THE SOUTHERN DESERTS The wayward Spring, in dalliance afar, Forgets us for long seasons, till the sky Weeps for our burning woe; then, star on star, Rich blossoms from our glowing dunes arise. Thirst, with his legioned agonies, still stands Warding the barren empire of our sands. THE BLACK PEOPLES God smote us with an itch to dip our hands In one anothers blood. Our long travail The ages hearken to. The ocean sands Than we are not more myriad. Men hale Us forth in chains oer every moaning sea Foul with the trails of Mans iniquity. KIMBERLEY I sprang from neath the desert sand, and cast A double-handed shower of living gems I the worlds astonished visage. In my vast Black, echoing chasm, whence the bright diadems Of half Earths thrones are furnishd, I can hear The lost souls wander, wailing, far and near. JOHANNESBURG A maenad seated on a golden throne; My plaything is a nations destiny; My feet are clay, my bosom is a stone; The princes of the Earth are fain of me, But, stark, before the splendour of my gates, The grim Boer, leaning on his rifle, waits. THE WHITE COMMONWEALTHS To-morrow unregarded, clean effaced The lesson of unhallowed yesterday, We rail against each other; interlaced Albeit are our fortunes. So we stray, Blind to the lurid writing on the wall, Deaf to the words Fates warning lips let fall. ......Buy Now (To Read More)

Product details

Ebook Number: 36421
Author: Scully, W. C. (William Charles)
Release Date: Jun 13, 2011
Format: eBook
Language: English