Ode 4

Gamal Abdel Nasser lives as though for ever in your sigh For the land, the air, pride, truth, traditions high And behold a cry! we look into a deep blue sea For tranquil eyes to weep, and none sarted to see The saints sit in the glare of the dimmed light Guarding the endless stream of the clear white Slain for the soul's salvation where all day There's in our dreams, the Prophet passed upon a way At least it wasn't your imagination, I hear them console I touch those loveshakes now on the whole How they do curse and deny the War The endurance of primal savagery so far And now a divine voice in ethereal praise Free all aching hearts for singing days For a lost Atlantis that leaves no sign That one might trace the form above the line