The next morning we looked through the open French windows with their rose hangings, out upon the Pyramids and the Nile. The river lay almost at our feet. The beauty of it was intoxicating in the soft light of the rising sun. When my friend broke the silence she said, “It is indeed beautiful,” then smiling she added “but,— If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, Let my right hand forget her skill. Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, If I remember thee not, If I prefer not Jerusalem Above my chief joy.... Awake, awake, put on thy strength; put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city.... Shake thyself from the dust; arise, sit on thy throne, O Jerusalem.—Peace be unto thee, O Zion.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Transcriber’s note: 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.