Poem Hunter
Poems
Egypt
(November 11, 1836 – March 19, 1907 / Portsmouth, New Hampshire)

Egypt

Poem By Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Fantastic sleep is busy with my eyes;
I seem in some waste solitude to stand
Once ruled of Cheops; upon either hand
A dark illimitable desert lies,
Sultry and still -- a zone of mysteries.
A wide-browed Sphinx, half buried in the sand,
With orbless sockets stares across the land,
The wofulest thing beneath these brooding skies
Save that loose heap of bleachèd bones, that lie
Where haply some poor Bedouin crawled to die.
Lo! while I gaze, beyond the vast sand-sea
The nebulous clouds are downward slowly drawn,
And one bleared star, faint glimmering like a bee,
Is shut in the rosy outstretched hand of Dawn.

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Comments (1)

Makes me think of earlier 19th century fascination, sometimes a bit forced, with scenes of bleakness & doom: see Frankenstein, works of Poe, also Ozymandias of course.


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