What took place within the temples was concealed from view, for each was surrounded by a high inclosing wall with lofty, carefully closed portals, which were only opened when a chorus of priests came out to sing a pious hymn, in the morning to Horus the rising god, and in the evening to Turn the descending god. As soon as the evening hymn of the priests was heard, the Necropolis was deserted, for the mourners and those who were visiting the graves were required by this time to return to their boats, and to quit the City of the Dead. Crowds of men who had marched in the processions of the west bank hastened in disorder to the shore, driven on by the body of watchmen who took it in turns to do this duty and to protect the graves against robbers. The merchants closed their booths, then embalmers and workmen ended their day's work and retired to their houses, the priests returned to the temples, and the inns were filled with guests, who had come hither on long pilgrimages from a distance, and who preferred passing the night in the vicinity of the dead whom they had come to visit, to going across to the bustling noisy city on the further shore. The voices of the singers and of the wailing women were hushed, even the song of the sailors on the numberless ferryboats from the western shore of Thebes died away, its faint echo was now and then borne across on the evening air, and at last all was still. _Uarda._ KARNAK. "I am Karnak, and a thousand million men have lived and died Since open have my gates been thrown for kings through them to ride: My massive walls have echoed to the tread of Egypt's hosts, But now they are a skulking place for goblins and for ghosts." "I stand once more among those mighty columns, which radiate into avenues from whatever point one takes them. I see them swathed in coiled shadows and broad bands of light. I see them sculptured and painted with shapes of gods and kings, with blazonings of royal names, with sacrificial altars and forms of sacred beasts, and emblems of wisdom and truth. The shafts of these columns are enormous. I stand at the foot of one--or of what seems to be the foot; for the original pavement lies buried seven feet below.... It casts a shadow twelve feet in breadth--such a shadow as might be cast by a tower. The capital that juts out so high above my head looks as if it might have been placed there to support the heavens. It is carved in the semblance of a full-blown lotus, and glows with undying colors--colors that are still fresh, though laid on by hands that have been dust these three thousand years and more. It would take not six men, but a dozen, to measure round the curved lip of that stupendous lily.