Horne's poem talks about, perhaps, the futility of resisting the passing of time. Or maybe the smallness of small minds. At any rate, sometimes it feels as though we are cursing the ancients and throwing rocks at pyramids, expecting some reaction. Horne says people have felt like that for ages. What art thou more than we, indeed.
|Pelters of Pyramids|
|Richard Henry Horne (1802–84)|