There died a myriad, And of the best, among them, For an old bitch gone in the teeth, For a botched civilization. Charm, smiling at the good mouth, Quick eyes gone under earth's lid, For two gross of broken statues, For a few thousand battered books.
Ezra Pound (1885 - 1972)
Source: Hugh Selwyn Mauberley. E.P. Ode pour l’élection de son sepulchre, 1920, V