Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/299

Rh

Upon the grass, I struggled hard against The domineering potion, but in vain. The cloudy swoon came on, and down I sank, Like a Silenus on an antique vase. How long I slumbered 'tis a chance to guess. When sense of life return'd, I started up As if with wings, but the fair trees were gone, The mossy mound and arbor were no more. I look'd around upon the curved sides Of an old sanctuary, with roof august, Builded so high, it seem'd that filmed clouds Might spread beneath as o'er the stars of heaven. So old the place was, I remember'd none The like upon the earth: what I had seen Of gray cathedrals, buttress'd walls, rent towers, The superannuations of sunk realms, Or Nature's rocks toil d hard in waves and winds, Seem'd but the faulture of decrepit things To that eternal domed monument. Upon the marble at my feet there lay Store of strange vessels and large draperies, Which needs had been of dyed asbestos wove, Or in that place the moth could not corrupt, So white the linen, so, in some, distinct Ran imageries from a sombre loom. All in a mingled heap confused there lay Robes, golden tongs, censer and chafing-dish, Girdles, and chains, and holy jewelries.

Turning from these with awe, once more I raised My eyes to fathom the space every way: The embossed roof, the silent massy range