Princess

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. Refreshed, I sat me down to weave a crown of lotus leaves And lilies fair, and while I sat in a sweet Revery, dreaming of life and hope, I saw A little wicker-basket hidden among The flags and lilies of the Nile, and I called My maidens and said, “Nillias and Osiria Bring me that little ark which floats beside The stream.” They ran and brought me a precious burden. ’Twas an ark woven with rushes and daubed With slime, and in it lay a sleeping child; His little hand amid his clustering curls, And a bright flush upon his glowing cheek. He wakened with a smile, and reached out his hand To meet the welcome of the mother’s kiss, When strange faces met his gaze, and he drew back With a grieved, wondering look, while disappointment Shook the quivering lip that missed the mother’s Wonted kiss, and the babe lifted his voice and wept. Then my heart yearned towards him, and I resolved That I would brave my father’s wrath and save The child; but while I stood gazing upon His wondrous beauty, I saw beside me A Hebrew girl, her eyes bent on me With an eager, questioning look, and drawing Near, she timidly said, “shall I call a nurse?” I bade her go; she soon returned, and with her Came a woman of the Hebrew race, whose Sad, sweet, serious eyes seemed overflowing With a strange and sudden joy. I placed the babe Within her arms and said, “Nurse this child for me;” And the babe nestled there like one at home, While o’er the dimples of his face rippled The brightest, sweetest smiles, and I was well Content to leave him in her care; and well Did she perform her part. When many days had Passed she brought the child unto the palace; And one morning, while I sat toying with His curls and listening to the prattle of his Untrained lips, my father, proud and stately, Saw me bending o’er the child and said, “Charmian, whose child is this? who of my lords Calls himself father to this goodly child? He surely must be a happy man.” Then I said, “Father, he is mine. He is a Hebrew child that I have saved from death.” He Suddenly recoiled, as if an adder Had stung him, and said, “Charmian, take that Child hence. How darest thou bring a member Of that mean and servile race within my doors? Nay, rather let me send for Nechos, whose Ready sword shall rid me of his hateful presence.” Then kneeling at his feet, and catching Hold of his royal robes, I said, “Not so, Oh! honored father, he is mine; I snatched Him from the hungry jaws of death, and foiled The greedy crocodile of his prey; he has Eaten bread within thy palace walls, and thy Salt lies upon his fresh young lips; he has A claim upon thy mercy.” “Charmian,” he said “I have decreed that every man child of that Hated race shall die. The oracles have said The pyramids shall wane before their shadow, And from them a star shall rise whose light shall Spread over earth a baleful glow; and this is why I root them from the land; their strength is weakness To my throne. I shut them from the light lest they Bring darkness to my kingdom. Now, Charmian, Give me up the child, and let him die.” Then clasping the child closer to my heart, I said, “the pathway to his life is through my own; Around that life I throw my heart, a wall Of living, loving clay.” Dark as the thunder Clouds of distant lands became my father’s brow, And his eyes flashed with the fierce lightnings Of his wrath; but while I plead, with eager Eyes upturned, I saw a sudden change come Over him; his eyes beamed with unwonted Tenderness, and he said, “Charmian, arise, Thy prayer is granted; just then thy dead mother Came to thine eyes, and the light of Asenath Broke over thy face. Asenath was the light Of my home; the star that faded out too Suddenly from my dwelling, and left my life To darkness, grief and pain, and for her sake, Not thine, I’ll spare the child.” And thus I saved Thee twice—once from the angry sword and once From the devouring flood. Moses, thou art Doubly mine; as such I claimed thee then, as such I claim thee now. I’ve nursed no other child Upon my knee, and pressed upon no other Lips the sweetest kisses of my love, and now, With rash and careless hand, thou dost thrust aside that love. There was a painful silence, a silence So hushed and still that you might have almost Heard the hurried breathing of one and the quick Throbbing of the other’s heart: for Moses, He was slow of speech, but she was eloquent With words of tenderness and love, and had breathed Her full heart into her lips; but there was Firmness in the young man’s choice, and he beat back The opposition of her lips with the calm Grandeur of his will, and again he essayed to speak.