No name of mortal is secure in stone:
Hewn on the Parthenon, the name will waste;
Carved on the Pyramid, ‘twill be effaced.
In the heroic deed and there alone,
Is man’s one hold against the craft of Time,
That humbles into dust the shaft sublime—
That mixes sculptured Karnak with the sands,
unannealed, blown about the Libyan lands.
And for the high, heroic deeds of men,
There is no crown of praise but deed again.