Genius

Nor gods, nor giants rais'd this pyramid--It was the toil of mortals like yourselfThat swell'd it to the skies--See'st thou yon' little door? Through that they pass'd,Who rais'd so high this aggregate of wonders!What cannot tyrants do,When they have subject nations at their will,And the world's wealth to gratify ambition!Millions of slaves beneath their labours faintedWho here were doom'd to toil incessantly,And years elaps'd while groaning myriads stroveTo raise this mighty tomb--and but to hideThe worthless bones of an Egyptian king.--O wretch, could not a humbler tomb have done,Could nothing but a pyramid inter thee!

Before the Jewish patriarchs saw the light,While yet the globe was in its infancyThese were erected to the pride of man--Four thousand years have run their tedious roundSince these smooth stones were on each other laid,Four thousand more may run as dull a roundEre Egypt sees her pyramids decay'd.

'Tis darkness all, with hateful silence join'd--Here drowsy bats enjoy a dull repose,And marble coffins, vacant of their bones,Show where the royal dead in ruin lay!By every pyramid a temple roseWhere oft in concert those of ancient timeSung to their goddess Isis hymns of praise;But these are fallen!--their columns too superbAre levell'd with the dust--nor these alone--Where is thy vocal statue, Memnon, now,That once, responsive to the morning beams,Harmoniously to father Phoebus sung!Where is the image that in past time stoodHigh on the summit of yon' pyramid?--Still may you see its polish'd pedestal--Where art thou ancient Thebes?----all bury'd low,All vanish'd! crumbled into mother dust,And nothing of antiquity remainsBut these huge pyramids, and yonder hills.