THEIR golden summits in the noonday light, Shone o'er the dark-green deep that roll'd between; For domes and pinnacles, and spires were seen Peering above the sea -- a mournful sight! Well might the sad beholder ween from thence What works of wonder the devouring wave Had swallow'd there, when monuments so brave Bore record of their old magnificence. And on the sandy shore, beside the verge Of ocean, here and there a rock-hewn fane Resisted in its strength the surf and surge That on their deep foundations beat in vain. In solitude the ancient temples stood, Once resonant with instrument and song, And solemn dance of festive multitude; Now as the weary ages pass along, Hearing no voice save of the ocean flood, Which roars for ever on the restless shores; Or, visiting their solitary caves, The lonely sound of winds, that moan around, Accordant to the melancholy waves. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO TIRZAH, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH by WILLIAM JOHNSON CORY ON THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST by WILLIAM DUNBAR BOSTON by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON E TENEBRIS [FROM THE SHADOWS] by OSCAR WILDE |