On the Death of Smet-Smet, the Hippopotamus-Goddess

Song of a tribe of the ancient Egyptians



     (The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous?  She was our Mother.
She was lustful and lewd? -- but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.

     (The People without)
          She sent us pain,
           And we bowed before Her;
          She smiled again
           And bade us adore Her.
          She solaced our woe
           And soothed our sighing;
          And what shall we do
           Now God is dying?

     (The Priests within)
She was hungry and ate our children; -- how should we stay Her?
She took our young men and our maidens; -- ours to obey Her.
We were loathed and mocked and reviled of all nations; that was our pride.
She fed us, protected us, loved us, and killed us; now She has died.

     (The People without)
          She was so strong;
           But death is stronger.
          She ruled us long;
           But Time is longer.
          She solaced our woe
           And soothed our sighing;
          And what shall we do
           Now God is dying?