Preserved my feet of clay!

Pompeii

SHE SINGS

So let us eat and drink, to singing and guitar,

Before we pace the mournful streets where the gray houses are;

Vesuvio, the guilty, leans lazy on the sky.

The very gods are dead, my love—and we have still to die!

NEW EXCAVATIONS

A workman with a spade in half a day

Can push two thousand lagging years away.