Uarda

And I--have I not brought Thee many victims, And filled Thy temple with the captive folk? And for thy presence built a dwelling place That shall endure for countless years to come? Thy garners overflow with gifts from me. I offered Thee the world to swell Thy glory, And thirty thousand mighty steers have shed Their smoking blood on fragrant cedar piles. Tall gateways, flag-decked masts, I raised to Thee, And obelisks from Abu I have brought, And built Thee temples of eternal stone. For Thee my ships have brought across the sea The tribute of the nations. This I did-- When were such things done in the former time?

For dark the fate of him who would rebel Against Thee: though Thy sway is just and mild. My father, Amon--as an earthly son His earthly father--so I call on Thee. Look down from heaven on me, beset by foes, By heathen foes--the folk that know Thee not. The nations have combined against Thy son; I stand alone--alone, and no man with me. My foot and horse are fled, I called aloud And no one heard--in vain I called to them. And yet I say: the sheltering care of Amon Is better succor than a million men, Or than ten thousand knights, or than a thousand Brothers and sons though gathered into one. And yet I say: the bulwarks raised by men However strong, compared to Thy great works Are but vain shadows, and no human aid Avails against the foe--but Thy strong hand. The counsel of Thy lips shall guide my way; I have obeyed whenever Thou hast ruled; I call on Thee--and, with my fame, Thy glory Shall fill the world, from farthest east to west."

Yea, his cry rang forth even far as Hermonthis, And Amon himself appeared at his call; and gave him His hand and shouted in triumph, saying to the Pharaoh: "Help is at hand, O Rameses. I will uphold thee-- I thy father am he who now is thy succor, Bearing thee in my hands. For stronger and readier I than a hundred thousand mortal retainers; I am the Lord of victory loving valor? I rejoice in the brave and give them good counsel, And he whom I counsel certainly shall not miscarry."

Then like Menth, with his right he scattered the arrows, And with his left he swung his deadly weapon, Felling the foe--as his foes are felled by Baal. The chariots were broken and the drivers scattered, Then was the foe overthrown before his horses. None found a hand to fight: they could not shoot Nor dared they hurl the spear but fled at his coming Headlong into the river."