Thothmes, who loved a pyramid,
And dreamed of wonders that it hid,
Took up again one afternoon,
His longest staff, his sandal shoon,
His evening meal, his pilgrim flask,
And set himself at length the task,
Scorning the smaller and the small,
To climb the highest one of all.

The sun was very hot indeed,
Yet Thothmes never slacked his speed
Until upon the topmost stone
He lightly sat him down alone
To make himself some pleasant cheer
And turned to take his flask of beer,
For he was weary and athirst.
Forth from the neck the stopper burst
And rudely waked the sleeping dead.
In terror guilty Thothmes fled
As rose majestic, wroth and slow,
The Pharaoh's Ka of long ago.
"Help! help!" he cried, "or I am lost!
Oh! save me from old Pharaoh's ghost!"

Till, uttering one fearful yell,
He stumbled at the base and fell
Where Anubis was at his side,
And, by the god of death, he died.

The wife of Thothmes learned his tale
First from the "Memphis Evening Mail,"
And called her son, and told their woe;
"Alas!" said she, "I told him so!
Oh, think upon these awful things
And mount not on the graves of kings!
A pyramid is strange to see,
Though only at its base you be."

Anonymous.