A pilgrimage to the temples and tombs of Egypt, Nubia, and ...

162 DESERT CEMETERY.
cracked through, looking so fresli that one might
fancy it was only awaiting the arrival of the
workmen to remove it to the place where the
sculptor's cunning hand was to cover it with pic-
tured chronicles. And what has become of the
strong hands that hewed that vast mass out
of the imperishable rock, and the delicate fin-
gers that were to beautify it, and the mind
that could will shapeless stones to be fashioned
into forms of beauty?—into what elements
have they resolved themselves, while there lies
their work, unchanged and unchangeable?
In the part of the Desert we rode through
to reach the quarries, is the old burying-place
of the ruined Saracen town I have already al-
luded to, full of crumbling tombs and dilapi-
dated monuments—a dreary scene ! how
unlike
those green and shady nooks, where, in the
quiet village cemeteries of dear England, " the
rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep " under
yet,
the shadow of the old church wall ! And
methinks, the Desert, which is the image of
death, is no unfit locality for a receptacle of
the dead.
On our way home to our boat we rode through
the bazaar of Es-souan, which, although the re-
verse of brilliant in point of merchandize, was