Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise. Loathsomeness waits and dreams in the deep, and decay spreads over the tottering cities of men.
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One doom waits all — art, speech, law, gods, and men, Forests and mountains, stars and shining sun, —
The hand that made them shall unmake again, I curse them and they wither one by one.Waste altars, tombs, dead cities where men trod, Shall roll through space upon the darkened globe,
Till I myself be overthrown, and God Cast off creation like an outworn robe.
