1. A dead hope—within my soul I entombed

    for it, in God’s watchful care, a grave.

  2. Its spirit departed, overflowing as radiance

    before it had passed beyond childhood in age.

  3. I lived on its dew, as it fell

    upon my hand in coolness and fragrance.

  4. In lengthened shadows poetry branched forth

    above it, as a dawn of happiness.

  5. Then it perished—alas for it! The world grew too strait

    for it, at the limit of her endurance and patience,

  6. after it had made life bloom in my eyes.

    It passed away striving, and left bondage in its wake.

  7. My hope in this age is Egypt—may God keep

    Egypt alive, the repository of culture.

  8. May God make her face radiant; and she only grows

    more distant from me, and harder to attain.

Sol 5.6