01.07.2007, 11:02
Two Columns
I saw two columns, by a southern shore;
One, standing in its dorian majesty,
Simple and stern and natural, it might be,
So blended with the hills the shape it wore,
But some cyclopean hand, ere time was hoar,
Had reared it up to Neptune, and his sea
Still bellows out beneath, memorially,
Marking the moments` flight with tumbling roar:
O`erthrown the other, of inferior race,
Spiral and fretted as a beechen bole,
That thin green stems of ivy overlace.
Between their dates did twenty ages roll,
And still the first, with its Homeric grace
Stood scatheless, lifting up the gazers`s soul.
I saw two columns, by a southern shore;
One, standing in its dorian majesty,
Simple and stern and natural, it might be,
So blended with the hills the shape it wore,
But some cyclopean hand, ere time was hoar,
Had reared it up to Neptune, and his sea
Still bellows out beneath, memorially,
Marking the moments` flight with tumbling roar:
O`erthrown the other, of inferior race,
Spiral and fretted as a beechen bole,
That thin green stems of ivy overlace.
Between their dates did twenty ages roll,
And still the first, with its Homeric grace
Stood scatheless, lifting up the gazers`s soul.