A ghostly monument of unbelief.
Dumb with the tracking fear that suffered not
A moment’s waste in sorrow—on they pressed
And gained the place of refuge. Then they turned,
Breathless and tottering, with their straining eyes
Clouded with horror, and their lips apart
In speechless eagerness, and awful dread,
Toward the distant city.
The calm morn
Seemed sliding downward to abysmal night: