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[[v]]
TYPE of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length — at length — after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,
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Amid thy shadows, and so drink within
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!
Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
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Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!
I feel ye now — I feel ye in your strength —
O spells more sure than e’er Judæan king
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!
O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!
Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold,
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!
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Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair
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Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!
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Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,
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Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home,
Lit by the wan light of the hornéd moon,
The swift and silent lizard of the stones! [page 20:]
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But stay! these walls — these ivy-clad arcades —
These mouldering plinths — these sad and blackened shafts —
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These vague entablatures — this crumbling frieze —
These shattered cornices — this wreck — this ruin —
These stones — alas! these gray stones — are they all —
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All of the famed, and the colossal left
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?
“Not all” — the Echoes answer me — “not all!
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“Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever
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“From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,
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“As melody from Memnon to the Sun.
“We rule the hearts of mightiest men — we rule
“With a despotic sway all giant minds.
[[v]]
“We are not impotent — we pallid stones.
“Not all our power is gone — not all our fame —
“Not all the magic of our high renown —
“Not all the wonder that encircles us —
“Not all the mysteries that in us lie —
“Not all the memories that hang upon
“And cling around about us as a garment,
“Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.”
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Notes:
None.
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[S:0 - JHW11, 1911] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - The Coliseum (ed. J. H. Whitty, 1911)