Even while I write, beyond the fertile fields, the Nile is running red,as though with blood. Before me the sunlight beats upon the far Arabianhills, and falls upon the piles of Abouthis. Still the priests makeorison within the temples at Abouthis that know me no more; stillthe sacrifice is offered, and the stony roofs echo back the people'sprayers. Still from this lone cell within my prison-tower, I, the Wordof Shame, watch thy fluttering banners, Abouthis, flaunting from thypylon walls, and hear the chants as the long procession winds fromsanctuary to sanctuary.
Abouthis, lost Abouthis! my heart goes out toward thee! For the daycomes when the desert sands shall fill thy secret places! Thy Gods aredoomed, O Abouthis! New Faiths shall make a mock of all thy Holies, andCenturion shall call upon Centurion across thy fortress-walls. I weep--Iweep tears of blood: for mine is the sin that brought about these evilsand mine for ever is their shame.