human
Of what account are you anyway? Poor blind voyagers, floatin' by me jest as so many generations have gone past--canoe and white sails floatin' along, floatin' along, comin' in view of me in the fur blue hazy distance, comin' into the broad light before me and glidin' off and disappearin' in the shadows. Forever and ever, new ones comin,' comin', goin', goin', year after year, generation after generation. And here we have stood calm, settled down, pintin' up into the heavens where our history is gathered up, where the ones that made our history are gathered like the drops of spray from the river that has washed on the shores at our feet, and then evaporated up agin into the blue sky.
gpt
Float on, poor voyagers; float along with your pitiful little crumbs of knowledge and wisdom carried so proudly. How soon the shadows will drift apart to take you into 'em and then close up and hold you there forever. And out of the shinin' west new faces will come growin' plainer and plainer as the boat draws near; they will shine out full and clear in front of me and then glide away into the mist--I shall lose sight of 'em jest as I do of you to-day. Comin'! comin'! goin'! goin'! They will look at me and wonder jest as you do to-day, and I will say to 'em jest as I do to you, 'Hail and farewell!'