I took a sea-shell in my hand,
And blew like any trumpeter.
I felt the fig-leaves lift and stir
On trees that reached from ruined wall
Above my head, but that was all.
Back from the farther island shore
Came echoes trooping; nothing more.
Lo! here stood Adria once, and here
Attila came with sword and flame,
And set his throne of hollowed stone