On Egypt sleeping under sky of brass
The twain gazed wistfully from terrace high,
And watched the Flood, through Delta rolling high,
Toward Sais or Bubastis slowly pass.

The Roman felt beneath his thick cuirass -
Like captive soldier stilling infant's cry -
On his triumphant bosom swooning lie
Her form voluptious in his close embrace.

Turning her pallid head between his arms
Toward him made mad by perfume's conquering charms,
She raised her mouth and crystalline, fond eye;

And o'er her bent, the Chieftain did behold
In her great orbs, starry with dots of gold,
Only a boundless sea where galleys fly.