Explore "To the Nile" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Month after month the gathered rains descend / Drenching yon secret Aethiopian dells, / And from the desert's ice-girt pinnacles / Where Frost and Heat in strange embraces blend / On Atlas, fields of moist snow half depend. / Girt there with blasts and meteors Tempest dwells / By Nile's aereal urn, with rapid spells / Urging those waters to their mighty end. / O'er Egypt's land of Memory floods are level / And they are thine, O Nile-and well thou knowest / That soul-sustaining airs and blasts of evil / And fruits and poisons spring where'er thou flowest. / Beware, O Man-for knowledge must to thee, / Like the great flood to Egypt, ever be.