Wondrous and awful are thy silent halls,
O kingdom of the past!
There lie the bygone ages in their palls,
Guarded by shadows vast;
There all is hushed and breathless,
Save when some image of old error falls
Earth worshiped once as deathless.
And, if sometimes a moaning wander-eth
From out thy desolate halls,
If some grim shadow of thy living death
Across our sunshine falls
And, scares the world to error,
The eternal life sends forth melodious breath
To chase the misty terror.