In Egypt.

Speak softly, wake her not! We all must die.
This is a sleep that wraps her in secure
From Caesar's luck. Yet is that veiny bosom
Warm where now love's despair wrought life's undoing,
Or it may be life's parting, love's renewing,
So all's not over yet. See you, and how
She sleeps in his esteem, and he in hers,
Conjoined in Song's immortal monument;
While Caesar triumphs on through Syria,
And these two lie in Egypt — so together,
And, through the working of a worm, for ever.