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Rh And doubt of her pre-eminent destiny— Brutebrow'd, brutemaw'd, huge hirsute prodigies, Challenging with a vast appalling roar Whoso disturbs their monstrous monarchy! Dark unimaginable human lives, Ever alone in this most ancient realm, Immured in a stupendous sepulchre, Afar from man's tumultuous chariot-race Of sounding splendour; somnolent aware How the dull tide of dim inglorious years Moves ever foul and lurid with the scurf Of ruin'd blood, and gold, and scalding tears!

Some veer small restless, rambling, apelike eyes; Their clicking gibber mimics flittermice; A skeleton people plucking roots and berries For starved subsistence, grubbing shallow holes, Or sheltering in borrow'd dens disused What people lies before me? some affirm That there be men sepulchred verily In subterranean chambers like the dead; Burrowing human moles, fleeing from light,