CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE. (_Erected on the Thames Embankment, 1878_). Thou reverend relic from a far-off clime, Of ancient days, triumphant over Time. Thou ocean traveller, brought with peril o'er, To rise again on London's busy shore. Superb exponent of Egyptian art, What wondrous secrets load thy granite heart Since thou wert fashioned from the ribs of earth To show the great sun's golden glory forth! Thou with six noble compeers hast surveyed The birth and death of empires undismayed. Some of them saw at On the guiding light Shed o'er the Holy Family in their flight. The oldest still ennobles Goshen's brow, Almost the sole surviving relic now Of her foundation, and upon whose sod, When years had rolled their courses, Jesus trod. And one in Turkey, yet one more in Rome, Captives and aliens from their childhood's home, Tower in lone majesty, recording still The grandest era of Egyptian skill. A fifth in Alexandria calmly rears Its stately form, and o'er it kindly peers A noble landmark, like an angel guide To wanderers o'er Egypt's sand plains wide. Ask of the ages where the sixth has gone, For naught of that stone mountain now is known. Thus perish all things, save the spirit free, Inheritor of immortality! Past ages fondly raised to Ra and Tum (Whose morn and evening glory robed the sun), These sacred fanes, to grace the sun shrine high, Full in the golden splendour of the sky. Where now is Heliopolis? ah, where Her sun-shrine, raised in classic beauty rare?