An Antique Intaglio
Great cities that defied Time's power are dust,
And mighty temples ruins; yet this gem,
Seeming a fragile thing, outliveth them.
Its beauty bears no trace of Time's keen thrust,
Undimmed the marvellous lustre that doth trust
To none its secret; every delicate line
Glows with immortal freshness and divine,
That fears no ravage of decay or rust.
How infinite is art! A magic glass
This tiny, chiselled disk becomes to me:
Greece and her glories rise and shine and pass
Before my dazzled eyes; then fade to wan
And spectral shores, where the Aegean Sea
Guards the lone ruins of the Parthenon.
Great cities that defied Time's power are dust,
And mighty temples ruins; yet this gem,
Seeming a fragile thing, outliveth them.
Its beauty bears no trace of Time's keen thrust,
Undimmed the marvellous lustre that doth trust
To none its secret; every delicate line
Glows with immortal freshness and divine,
That fears no ravage of decay or rust.
How infinite is art! A magic glass
This tiny, chiselled disk becomes to me:
Greece and her glories rise and shine and pass
Before my dazzled eyes; then fade to wan
And spectral shores, where the Aegean Sea
Guards the lone ruins of the Parthenon.