Strange to behold Is the stone of this wall Broken by fate. The strongholds are bursten, The work of giants decaying; The roofs are fallen, The towers are tottering, Mouldering palaces roofless, Weather-marked masonry shattering. Shelters time-scarred, Tempest-marred, Undermined of old. Earth's grasp holdeth Its mighty builders Tumbled, crumbled, In gravel's harsh grip Till a hundred generations Of men pass away. Till a hundred generations of men pass away, Till a hundred generations of men pass away.