"Pomp of Egypt’s elder day, Shade of the mighty passed away, Whose giant works still frown sublime Mid the twilight shades of Time; Fanes, of sculpture vast and rude, That strew the sandy solitude, Lo! before our startled eyes, As at a wizard’s wand, ye rise, Glimmering larger through the gloom! While on the secrets of the tomb, Rapt in other times, we gaze, The Mother Queen of ancient days, Her mystic symbol in her hand, Great Isis, seems herself to stand.From mazy vaults, high-arched and dim, Hark! heard ye not Osiris’ hymn? And saw ye not in order dread The long procession of the dead?"