She stood breast-high amid the corn.
Since one country, one God, O my sire
Sleep, sleep, mine holy One

Slow glides the Nile: amid the margin flags
Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea
The bed was earth, the raised pillow stones
The dust on their sandals lay heavy and white .

The morning broke, light stolé upon the clouds
Then was a task of glory all thine own
The plume-like swaying of the auburn corn
There was a mournfulness in angel eyes
The Roman sentinel stood helmed and tall
The rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plain
The shepherds went their hasty way
The sun is hot; and the dry east-wind blowing

144

130

266

95

98

72

288

48

318

143

317

290

151

264

277