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18 :::Behold! where pleasure smiled;
 * What now remains?—the memory
 * Of senselessness and shame—
 * What is immortal there?
 * Nothing—it stands to tell
 * A melancholy tale, to give
 * An awful warning: soon

Oblivion will steal silently
 * The remnant of its fame.
 * Monarchs and conquerors there
 * Proud o'er prostrate millions trod—
 * The earthquakes of the human race;
 * Like them, forgotten when the ruin
 * That marks their shock is past.


 * Beside the eternal Nile,
 * The Pyramids have risen.
 * Nile shall pursue his changeless way:
 * Those pyramids shall fall;
 * Yea! not a stone shall stand to tell
 * The spot whereon they stood;
 * Their very scite shall be forgotten,
 * As is their builder's name!


 * Behold yon sterile spot;
 * Where now the wandering Arab's tent
 * Flaps in the desert blast.
 * There once old Salem's haughty fane

Reared high to heaven its thousand golden domes,
 * And in the blushing face of day
 * Exposed its shameful glory.