II.
Long ages past!—they left her porphyry halls
Still trod by kingly footsteps. Gems and gold
Broider’d her mantle, and her castled walls
Frown’d in their strength; yet there were signs which told
The days were full. The pure high faith of old
Was changed; and on her silken couch of sleep
She lay, and murmur’d if a rose-leaf’s fold
Disturb’d her dreams; and call’d her slaves to keep
Their watch, that no rude sound might reach her o’er the deep.