can the father thus forget his son? 
          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.”