human
Millions on millions thus, from age to age, With simplest skill, and toil unweariable, No moment and no movement unimproved, Laid line on line, on terrace terrace spread, To swell the heightening, brightening, gradual mound, By marvellous structure climbing towards the day. Each wrought alone, yet all together wrought, Unconscious, not unworthy instruments, By which a hand invisible was rearing A new creation in the secret deep. .....I saw the living pile ascend, The mausoleum of its architects, Still dying upwards as their labors closed; Slime the material, but the slime was turned To adamant by their petrific touch: Frail were their frames, ephemeral their lives, Their masonry imperishable.
gpt
Deeper than ever plummet sounded