Imperial Walls - Peter Hammill

Strange to behold*

Is the stone of this wall

Broken by fate.

The strongholds are bursten,

The work of giants decaying;

The roofs are fallen,

The towers are tottering,

Mouldering palaces roofless,

Weather-marked masonry shattering.

Shelters time-scarred,

Tempest-marred,

Undermined of old.

Earth’s grasp holdeth

Its mighty builders

Tumbled, crumbled,

In gravel’s harsh grip

Till a hundred generations

Of men pass away.

Till a hundred generations of men pass away,

Till a hundred generations of men pass away.