THE FATAL FORCE
Give the token of thy fire
Trident in the lambent air,
Till our spirits unaware
Worship and aspire!
Hear, beyond all periods,
Timeless, formless, multiform,
Thou, supreme above the storm,
Spirit of the Holy Ones, Spirit of the Gods!
Enter Messenger.
MESSENGER.
The battle rages: even now the shock
Of hostile spears makes the loud earth resound,
The wide sky tremble.
AMENHATEP.
Here lies Horus dead,
There Isis slain. We have no leader left.
MESSENGER.
The fight is doubtful. We may conquer still.
AMENHATEP.
By this shed blood and desecrated shrine
And horrible hour of madness, may it be
That all the evil fortune of the land,
Created of these dead iniquities,
Burn its foul flame out. Are ye not appeased,
Even ye, O Powers of Evil, at this shame
And sacrilege? And ye, Great Powers of Good,
OI