Never can I think of Luxor without thinking of
those happy dancers, without thinking of the life that goes in the sun
on dancing feet.
There are a few places in the world that one associates with happiness,
that one remembers always with a smile, a little thrill at the heart
that whispers "There joy is." Of these few places Luxor is one--Luxor
the home of sunshine, the suave abode of light, of warmth, of the sweet
days of gold and sheeny, golden sunsets, of silver, shimmering nights
through which the songs of the boatmen of the Nile go floating to the
courts and the tombs of Thebes. The roses bloom in Luxor under the
mighty palms. Always surely beneath the palms there are the roses. And
the lateen-sails come up the Nile, looking like white-winged promises of
future golden days. And at dawn one wakes with hope and hears the songs
of the dawn; and at noon one dreams of the happiness to come; and at
sunset one is swept away on the gold into the heart of the golden world;
and at night one looks at the stars, and each star is a twinkling hope.
Soft are the airs of Luxor; there is no harshness in the wind that stirs
the leaves of the palms. And the land is steeped in light. From Luxor
one goes with regret. One returns to it with joy on dancing feet.
One day I sat in the temple, in the huge court with the great double row
of columns that stands on the banks of the Nile and looks so splendid
from it.
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