horror！　the　nameless　coffin！　and　at　last　it　will　be　done！　Oh；　let　it
  come！　let　it　come　swiftly！
  All　is　written；　I　have　held　back　nothingmy　sin　is　sinnedmy
  vengeance　is　finished。　Now　all　things　end　in　darkness　and　in　ashes；
  and　I　prepare　to　face　the　terrors　that　are　to　come　in　other　worlds
  than　this。　I　go；　but　not　without　hope　I　go：　for；　though　I　see　Her　not；
  though　no　more　She　answers　to　my　prayers；　still　I　am　aware　of　the　Holy
  Isis；　who　is　with　me　for　evermore；　and　whom　I　shall　yet　again　behold
  face　to　face。　And　then　at　last　in　that　far　day　I　shall　find
  forgiveness；　then　the　burden　of　my　guilt　will　roll　from　me　and
  innocency　come　back　and　wrap　me　round；　bringing　me　holy　Peace。
  Oh！　dear　land　of　Khem；　as　in　a　dream　I　see　thee！　I　see　Nation　after
  Nation　set　its　standard　on　thy　shores；　and　its　yoke　upon　thy　neck！　I
  see　new　Religions　without　end　calling　out　their　truths　upon　the　banks
  of　Sihor；　and　summoning　thy　people　to　their　worship！　I　see　thy　temples
  thy　holy　templescrumbling　in　the　dust：　a　wonder　to　the　sight　of
  men　unborn；　who　shall　peer　into　thy　tombs　and　desecrate　the　great　ones
  of　thy　glory！　I　see　thy　mysteries　a　mockery　to　the　unlearned；　and　thy
  wisdom　wasted　like　waters　on　the　desert　sands！　I　see　the　Roman　Eagles
  stoop　and　perish；　their　beaks　yet　red　with　the　blood　of　men；　and　the
  long　lights　dancing　down　the　barbarian　spears　that　follow　in　their
  wake！　And　then；　at　last；　I　see　Thee　once　more　great；　once　more　free；
  and　having　once　more　a　knowledge　of　thy　Godsay；　thy　Gods　with　a
  changed　countenance；　and　called　by　other　names；　but　still　thy　Gods！
  The　sun　sinks　over　Abouthis。　The　red　rays　of　Ra　flame　on　temple　roofs；
  upon　green　fields；　and　the　wide　waters　of　father　Sihor。　So　as　a　child
  I　watched　him　sink；　just　so　his　last　kiss　touched　the　further　pylon's
  frowning　brow；　just　that　same　shadow　lay　upon　the　tombs。　All　is
  unchanged！　II　only　am　changedso　changed；　and　yet　the　same！
  Oh；　Cleopatra！　Cleopatra！　thou　Destroyer！　if　I　might　but　tear　thy
  vision　from　my　heart！　Of　all　my　griefs；　this　is　the　heaviest　grief
  still　must　I　love　thee！　Still　must　I　hug　this　serpent　to　my　heart！
  Still　in　my　ears　must　ring　that　low　laugh　of　triumphthe　murmur　of
  the　falling　fountainthe　song　of　the　nightinga
  ＇Here　the　writing　on　the　third　roll　of　papyrus　abruptly　ends。　It　would
  almost　seem　that　the　writer　was　at　this　moment　broken　in　upon　by　those
  who　came　to　lead　him　to　his　doom。＇
  End