That had no faith to comprehend thy greatness,
No study of thy life to know thy goodness? ...
Egyptians, dare you think your high pyrámidës,
Built to out-dure the sun, as you suppose,
Where your unworthy kings lie raked in ashes,
Are monuments fit for him? No, brood of Nilus,
Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven;
No pyramid set off his memories,
But the eternal substance of his greatness,
To which I leave him.