Wednesday, April 17, 2019

The city, one day after


"A stillness, absolute as death,
Along the slacking wheels shall lie,
And, flagging at a single breath,
The fires shall smoulder out and die.
The roar shall vanish at its height,
And over that tremendous town
The silence of eternal night
Shall gather close and settle down.
All its grim grandeur, tower and hall,
Shall be abandoned utterly,
And into rust and dust shall fall
From century to century.
Nor ever living thing shall grow,
Or trunk of tree or blade of grass;
No drop shall fall, no wind shall blow,
Nor sound of any foot shall pass.
Alone of its accurséd state
One thing the hand of Time shall spare,
For the grim Idiot at the gate
Is deathless and eternal there!"



poem from The City at the End of Things, 
Archibald Lamp

                                                                                              
photo adapted from 
Frank R. Paul's ill. for "City of the Living Dead",
Laurence Manning and Fletcher Pratt (May 1930)

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