At first none could understand by chance, or providence had made such a man and happenstance such a plan or hatched an empire such as this from thirteen tribes upon these hills and made mere men, giants upon the earth whos roads still stand the testament of great dreams dreamt, come and gone and yet to come again the shade of wonders that still stand humble kings walked where armies once stood and they too dreamt their founders, some giants. we were once colossus but still they called us 'man'. but I, I preferred 'roman'. This world, one sixth, was not enough. So vast our king ruled over kings And the earth was our treasurehouse Our people, the wealth of nations. Gathered like scintillating jewels. Foundations laid so deep, no tree could tell So firm, civilizations fall could not break the spell. And people passed away, with memory, and left only ruins Without name or maker, as if the mountains had moved themselves. As if the roads had been built for 'them'. And scoff at their creator. As if our might could have been born Except from some god himself. Our works were dedicated To the divine. Pagans such an insult. Who can know the name of god? If the name of god was ever even known. Like blind men describing an elephant. Surely he was in our bones.