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(From The Roman)
UPSTOOD | |
| The hoar unconscious walls, bisson and bare, | |
| Like an old man deaf, blind, and gray, in whom | |
| The years of old stand in the sun and murmur | |
| Of childhood and the dead. From parapets | 5 |
| Where the sky rests, from broken niches,—each | |
| More than Olympus, for gods dwelt in them,— | |
| Below from senatorial haunts and seats | |
| Imperial, where the ever-passing Fates | |
| Wore out the stone, strange hermit-birds croaked forth | 10 |
| Sorrowful sounds, like watchers on the height | |
| Crying the hours of ruin. When the clouds | |
| Dressed every myrtle on the walls in mourning, | |
| With calm prerogative, the eternal pile | |
| Impassive shone with the unearthly light | 15 |
| Of immortality. When conquering suns | |
| Triumphed in jubilant earth, it stood out, dark | |
| With thoughts of ages: like some mighty captive | |
| Upon his death-bed in a Christian land, | |
| And lying, through the chant of psalm and creed | 20 |
| Unshriven and stern, with peace upon his brow, | |
And on his lips strange gods.
Rank weeds and grasses, | |
| Careless and nodding, grew, and asked no leave, | |
| Where Romans trembled. Where the wreck was saddest | |
| Sweet, pensive herbs, that had been gay elsewhere, | 25 |
| With conscious mien of place, rose tall and still, | |
| And bent with duty. Like some village children | |
| Who found a dead king on a battle-field, | |
| And with decorous care and reverent pity | |
| Composed the lordly ruin, and sat down | 30 |
| Grave without tears. At length the giant lay, | |
| And everywhere he was begirt with years, | |
| And everywhere the torn and mouldering Past | |
| Hung with ivy. For Time, smit with honor | |
| Of what he slew, cast his own mantle on him, | 35 |
| That none should mock the dead. | |
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