But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox, or wild hyæna, calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan,—
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.
[SONNET.]
WRITTEN IN KEATS' "ENDYMION."
I saw pale Dian, sitting by the brink
Of silver falls, the overflow of fountains