LXXX.
City of Theseus! bursting on the mind,
Thus dost thou rise, in all thy glory fled!
Thus guarded by the mighty of mankind,
Thus hallow’d by the memory of the dead:
Alone in beauty and renown—a scene
Whose tints are drawn from freedom’s loveliest ray.
’Tis but a vision now—yet thou hast been
More than the brightest vision might portray;
And every stone, with but a vestige fraught
Of thee, hath latent power to wake some lofty thought.