At night I found myself upon a heath,
Thick with garbage and the dust of stars.
At night I found myself upon a heath,
Thick with garbage and the dust of stars.
“If neither brass, nor marble, can withstand
The mortal force of Time’s destructive hand;
If mountains sink to vales, if cities die,
And less’ning rivers mourn their fountains dry;
When my old cassock, said a Welsh divine,
Is out at elbows, why should I repine?”
Jonathan Swift | “The Power of Time”