And stiller than the Ephesian Sleeper’s cave.
The watchman’s horn at midnight lies unblown,—
The ivy-muffled bells hang dumb, and save
The noise of summer flies, sound there is none.
Wide open stands the Kaiser’s palace door,
And here and there, upon the dusty floor,
Swords, helms, and spears, and empty wine-cups lie
Between whose golden lips black spiders ply
Their filmy looms in bright security.
Within this city, reared by Elfin hands,