There stands that Mute into whose ear the ages have whispered their secrets—
There stands that Mute with lusting eye and lusting ear who uttereth naught—
Mute of a myriad secrets who knoweth wither we wend;
Mute of the graven face and the alabaster hands—
There before me stands that Mute whose earthly name is Death—
That Mute into whose monstrous ear all things are whispered but who UTTERETH NAUGHT.