So stainless, that their white and glittering spears

Tinge not the moon's pure beam; yon castled steep,

Whose banner hangeth o'er the time-worn tower

So idly, that wrapt Fancy deemeth it

A metaphor of Peace—all form a scene

Where musing Solitude might love to lift

Her soul above this sphere of earthliness;

Where silence undisturbed might watch alone

So cold, so bright, so still.

P.B. SHELLEY.