The void sarcophagi, the broken urns
Of many a vanished avatar:
Or haunt the gloom of grumbling pylons vast
In temples that enshrine the shadowy past.
Viewless, impalpable and fleet,
I roam stupendous avenues, and greet
Familiar sphinxes carved from everlasting stone,
Or the fair, brittle gods of long ago,
Decayed and fallen low.
And there I mark the tall clepsammiae