As, gradually, the climbing moon,

Escaping from the clustering towers,

Revealed far-gleaming waters,

And the sharp, shrill cry of owls,

Sweeping by on noiseless plumes,

Assailed the vasty silence,

Shivering off like darts

From some impenetrable shield.

And, as we waited,

Sometimes, fearfully,

I gazed up those stupendous, soaring walls

Of that great, slumbering city, wondering

What doom behind the bastioned ramparts slept,

What destiny, beneath the brooding night,

Awaited me beyond the brazen gates.

But, naught the blind, indifferent stars revealed,

Though towards the long night's ending,

Half-dazed with gazing up that aching height,

A drowsiness fell over me,

And in a restless waking-trance I lay,

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