Ochre and vermeil,—standing stark and stiff
Their rigid forms; while 'mong the mummied dead
The frogs croaked and the woeful bittern boomed.
As they swept on they saw a form of stone
Cleaving the yellow sky-line, stern and lone
And awful, so no man might bear to dwell
'Neath its eyes glaring with unwinking lids,
As if of beings it alone could tell
The giant mystery of the pyramids
Ere centuries of sand had round them blown.