 | The book of the dead |  |
30
[XII. While this shall stand, the wicked deeds]
While this shall stand, the wicked deeds
Of these base men shall never die:
A thousand years the wheaten seeds
Within the mummy's palms may lie;—
Of these base men shall never die:
A thousand years the wheaten seeds
Within the mummy's palms may lie;—
A thousand years, and once again
A light breaks in upon the tomb,
And from those dusty hands the grain
Is sown, o'er harvest-fields to bloom.
A light breaks in upon the tomb,
And from those dusty hands the grain
Is sown, o'er harvest-fields to bloom.
And so may sleep my angry rhymes,
And you may say, “The fellow raves!”
I smile: these lines, in after-times,
Shall drag you naked from your graves.
And you may say, “The fellow raves!”
I smile: these lines, in after-times,
Shall drag you naked from your graves.
And save the record I have made,
Your lives shall have no history,
And that shall cast a baleful shade
Upon your shameful progeny.
Your lives shall have no history,
And that shall cast a baleful shade
Upon your shameful progeny.
| The book of the dead | |