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Moses: A Story of the Nile

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The very purple on my limbs seems drenched With blood, the warm blood of my own kindred race And then thy richest viands pall upon my taste, And discord jars in every tone of song. I cannot live in pleasure while they faint. In pain.


How like a dream the past floats back : it seems But yesterday when I lay tossing upon My couch of pain, a torpor creeping through Each nerve, a fever coursing through my veins. And there I lay, dreaming of lilies fair, Of lotus flowers and past delights, and all The bright, glad hopes, that give to early life Its glow and flush ; and thus day after day Dragged its slow length along, until, one morn, The breath of lilies, fainting on the air, Floated into my room, and then I longed once more To gaze upon the Nile, as on the face Of a familiar friend, whose absence long Had made a mournful void within the heart. I summoned to my side my maids, and bade Them place my sandals on my feet, and lead Me to the Nile, where I might bathe my weary Limbs within the cooling flood, and gather Healing from the sacred stream.. I sought my favorite haunt, and, bathing, found New tides of vigor coursing through my veins.

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