Page:Afterglow; pastels of Greek Egypt, 69 B.C. (IA afterglowpastels00buck).pdf/60

56 I am Septi, a priest of Holy Isis, and I write in the reign of the twelfth Ptolemy. Full three-score of years have passed over my head, forgetting not their toll as they moved; and thus it is that I sit within my chamber and dream, not of that which is to come, like a youth, but of those things which are behind me. For the fountains of my youth and life are long since dried and as though covered by the desert sands.

Across my vision flit shadowy figures of the past. They slip through the veil to smile at me and beckon, moving their lips as though they spoke; but I close my understanding and hear them not, lest they draw me to them before my time.

Among the faintly tinted throng there is one who never smiles and who speaks no word How many years ago she lived! How many years ago lived the youth who loved her!

The temple of my goddess is racked