To George Sterling (What) Poem by Clark Ashton Smith

What questioners have met the gaze of Time,
Whose searchless eyes unyielding theirs denied,
Till sank the casual monarch's baseless pride,
And transitory fames of sword or rhyme!
What fames from gulfs monotonous shall climb,
Whose eyes ephemeral, unverified,
Shall that enduring scrutiny abide
As men that face the noontide sun sublime!

One after one the searchers stare and fall,
Abased before its unabated scorn,
But this thy fame, in days eventual,
'Mid ruins desolate shall stand unworn,
Confronting Time in vastness musical,
Like Memnon's statue staring at the morn.