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(From Ruins of Many Lands)
BUT long ere these fair realms to Cortes bowed, | |
| Or reigned the Aztec, rose the structures proud | |
| Which, more than tomb or temple, form a chain | |
| That links the land to climes beyond the main. | |
| Ah! many a secret of old days lies hid | 5 |
| Beneath the ruined moss-clad pyramid! | |
| On Micoat’s plain two stately piles are seen, | |
| Sacred to day’s grand orb and night’s fair queen, | |
| While north and south less towering structures sweep, | |
| Where chiefs, perchance, and lowlier subjects sleep: | 10 |
| So on far Nubia’s waste, on Gizeh’s sand, | |
| Small cone-shaped tombs around the mightier stand. | |
| In Tajin’s woods where wanderers rare intrude, | |
| A hunter train the wild red deer pursued; | |
| With hound, and echoing tube, they onward press, | 15 |
| But start to see a form of loveliness; | |
| Above the forest, flame-like, springs in air | |
| A graceful tower, like some bright vision there; | |
| From rich-carved base to apex-stone they trace | |
| Egypt’s vast strength and Græcia’s matchless grace; | 20 |
| Huge blocks, that well might task man’s power and skill | |
| To move their bulk, on blocks ascending still! | |
| The pensile flower from every crevice peeps, | |
| Up its fair sides the pale gray lichen creeps. | |
| Some faun or wood-nymph, hovering round the spot, | 25 |
| Hath surely watched this pile, by man forgot, | |
| And, through revolving ages, charmed away | |
| The scythe of Time, the spectre of Decay. | |
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