Have I in any deed forgotten Thee? 
     Have I done aught without Thy high behest
     Or moved or staid against Thy sovereign will? 
     Great am I—­mighty are Egyptian kings
     But in the sight of Thy commanding might,
     Small as the chieftain of a wandering tribe. 
     Immortal Lord, crush Thou this unclean people;
     Break Thou their necks, annihilate the heathen.

     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.”