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 loathèd 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?