pensiveDreamland
When midnight bits are streaming,
And all the land is beeping,
Around me tread the mighty dead,
And slowly pass away.
Lo, mainframes, tubes, and relays,
From out the vanished ages,
With solemn pace and glowing face
Appear and pass away.
The blaze of flaming printers,
The on light soft and tender,
May charm the eye: yet they shall die,
Shall die and pass away.
But here, in Dreamland's centre,
No drive head crash may enter,
These bitmaps fair, this radiance rare,
Shall never pass away.
I see the tape reels falling,
The forms of old recalling;
Around me tread the mighty dead,
And slowly pass away.
Yeah, I did butcher that one pretty badly, didn't I...
