Hermes Trismegistus Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Still through Egypt's desert places
       &nbsp Flows the lordly Nile,
From its banks the great stone faces
       &nbsp Gaze with patient smile.
Still the pyramids imperious
       &nbsp Pierce the cloudless skies,
And the Sphinx stares with mysterious,
       &nbsp Solemn, stony eyes.

But where are the old Egyptian
       &nbsp Demi-gods and kings?
Nothing left but an inscription
       &nbsp Graven on stones and rings.
Where are Helios and Hephaestus,
       &nbsp Gods of eldest eld?
Where is Hermes Trismegistus,
       &nbsp Who their secrets held?

Where are now the many hundred
       &nbsp Thousand books he wrote?
By the Thaumaturgists plundered,
       &nbsp Lost in lands remote;
In oblivion sunk forever,
       &nbsp As when o'er the land
Blows a storm-wind, in the river
       &nbsp Sinks the scattered sand.