Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/22

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And the tumultuous throbbing of my pulse
Grew low, subdued, and gentle; and I breathed
My sorrow out in sighs, that were no more
The deep convulsiveness of bitter grief.
And by and by the earth and I, her child,
Slumbered in peace beneath the gentle reign
Of the fair queen of bright dominioned night.
But still I deemed that I was by my casement,
And that there lay beneath me, in the light
Of the full midnight moon, a lovely city;
A city beautiful with trees and fountains,
And works of grace and splendor, and high domes;
Palaces glittering in the moon's bright rays,
Gleaming like alabaster; and broad streets
Paved costlily with marble in mosaic,
But overgrown with grass and trailing weeds.
The spires, and palace-towers, and monuments,
Gleamed brightly in the moonlight, but rank moss
Waved from the terraces to the swaying wind,
With a low, rustling sound, and full of woe.
No print of feet was seen on any door-stone,
Not from one casement streamed the light of lamps,
But every where had desolation stalked,
Till not even one of all these palaces
Owned lord or serf—but all were tenantless.
And I alone was the sole living thing
That breathed within the city's silent walls.
The loneliness was awful; I stole down
From my still chamber to the trackless street,
And onward still, from palace unto palace,
Entering each by the wide-opened doors,
Whose hinges were no longer free to turn;
And flitting ghostily from room to room,
Pursued by phantom fears, I hastened on.
The moonlight checkered the cold marble floors,
And gleamed upon rich velvet, and high walls
Hung with dark paintings, frescoing their sides;

And glittered on large mirrors, that had not