Gray Canyon next; then Marble Canyon, stained
With iron-rust above, but brightly veined
As Parian, where the wave had sculptured it;
Then deep Still-water.
And all these conjunct
In one huge chasm, were but the towering gates
And dim approaches to the august abyss
That opened here,—one sempiternal page
Baring those awful hieroglyphs of stone,
Seven systems, and seven ages, darkly scrolled