human
I pray you, Sir, what mean The golden letters of this monument? In wonder quoth the Poet,
gpt
Hast thou been A dweller near at hand, and their intent Hast neither heard by voice of fame, nor seen The marble earlier?
human
Ay,
gpt
This is strange to me. But as he mused, with trouble in his mind, A band of maids approached him leisurely, Like vessels sailing with a favoring wind; And of their rosy lips requested he, As one that for a doubt would solving find, The tale, if tale there were, of that white stone, And those fair letters--
human
While she lived she shone.