By the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes: a man
supple in combat: stonehorned, stonebearded, heart of stone.
--YOU PRAY TO A LOCAL AND OBSCURE IDOL: OUR TEMPLES, MAJESTIC AND
MYSTERIOUS, ARE THE ABODES OF ISIS AND OSIRIS, OF HORUS AND AMMON RA.
YOURS SERFDOM, AWE AND HUMBLENESS: OURS THUNDER AND THE SEAS. ISRAEL IS
WEAK AND FEW ARE HER CHILDREN: EGYPT IS AN HOST AND TERRIBLE ARE HER ARMS.
VAGRANTS AND DAYLABOURERS ARE YOU CALLED: THE WORLD TREMBLES AT OUR NAME.
A dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech. He lifted his voice above it
boldly:
--BUT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HAD THE YOUTHFUL MOSES LISTENED TO AND
ACCEPTED THAT VIEW OF LIFE, HAD HE BOWED HIS HEAD AND BOWED HIS WILL AND
BOWED HIS SPIRIT BEFORE THAT ARROGANT ADMONITION HE WOULD NEVER HAVE
BROUGHT THE CHOSEN PEOPLE OUT OF THEIR HOUSE OF BONDAGE, NOR FOLLOWED THE
PILLAR OF THE CLOUD BY DAY. HE WOULD NEVER HAVE SPOKEN WITH THE ETERNAL
AMID LIGHTNINGS ON SINAI'S MOUNTAINTOP NOR EVER HAVE COME DOWN WITH THE
LIGHT OF INSPIRATION SHINING IN HIS COUNTENANCE AND BEARING IN HIS ARMS
THE TABLES OF THE LAW, GRAVEN IN THE LANGUAGE OF THE OUTLAW.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256