The Soul of Osiris

60 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. “ No more is spoken—the tradition goes : ‘ There learns the seeker what he seeks or knows,’ Thence—none have passed. The desert leagues may keep Some other secret—some profounder deep Than this one echoed fear : the desert shows Its ghastly triumph—silence. There they sleep. “ There, brave and pure, there, true and strong, they stay Bleached in the desert, till the solemn day Of God’s revenge—none knoweth them : they rest Unburied, unremembered, unconfessed. What names of strength, of majesty, had they ? What suns are these gone down into the West ? “ Even I myself—my youth within me said : Go, seek this folly ; fear not for the dead, And God is with thine arm. I reached the ridge, And saw the river and the ghastly bridge I told you of. Even then, even there, I fled. Nor knight, nor king—a miserable midge ! “ Yet from my shame I dare not turn and run. My oath grows urgent as my days are done. Almost mine hour is on me : for its sake I tell you this, as if my heart should break, The infinite desire—a burning sun. The listening fear—the sun-devouring snake ! ”