At once the stern old rampart crowns its height—
The donjon keep, the tower of ancient pride,
The rock-built fortress of old robber kings,
Start into life, and from their portals pour
Mailed foray forth, or pomp of feudal war.
The temple swells from vacancy, o’erarching
With pillared roof, and dim solemnity,
The worship of old time. The dry bones live
Of ancient ages: monarch, sage, and bard,
Stand in their living lineaments, invested