Two thousand years ahead, maybe,
Some man looks back toward myriad Me,
And thinks, ‘I'd give a lot to know
What life was like—that time ago!’

Beyond our monuments destroyed,
Beyond Utopia gained and lost,
And cheerful centuries well employed
In paying what men's folly cost,—
O face no more humane than this,
O heart no less deceived than mine,

O spirit brinked by death's abyss,
O eyes which earth and cloud confine,—
From your world order gazing back,
Learn, and forgive me what I lack.