THE END OF ALL.
Reading edition
Wandering along a waste Where once a city stood, I saw a ruined tomb, And in that tomb an urn,—
A sacred funeral-urn, Without a name or date, And in its hollow depths A little human dust!
Whose dust is this, I asked, In this forgotten urn? And where this waste now lies What city rose of old?
None knows; its name is lost; It was, and is no more: Gone like a wind that blew A thousand years ago!
Its melancholy end Will be the end of all; For, as it passed away, The universe will pass!
Its sole memorial Some ruined world, like ours; A solitary urn, Full of the dust of men!