It is a structure of the olden time,
Built to endure, not dazzle for a day;
A stain is on the venerable roof,
Telling of conflict with the King of Storms,
And clings to casement-worn, and hanging eaves,
With thread-like roots, the moss.
Grey shutters swing
On rusted hinges, but the beams of day
Dart with a softening radiance through the bars.
Colossal domes of chiseled marble made,