Upon the lofty cornice,
You sit for generations,
You diabolical creations.

How do you find a place here
To rend the hallowed atmosphere
with your vile stagnations?

Your lives have spanned a thousand years,
What you have seen wearies
The imagination, and these
Walls have been the panorama
Of your long and passive drama
Which no mortal man sees.

C.H. Shepheard.