Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/445

CANTO IV.] Such as an army's baffled strength delays,

Standing with half its battlements alone,

And with two thousand years of ivy grown,

The garland of Eternity, where wave

The green leaves over all by Time o'erthrown;—

What was this tower of strength? within its cave

What treasure lay so locked, so hid?—A woman's grave.

C.

But who was she, the Lady of the dead,

Tombed in a palace? Was she chaste and fair?

Worthy a king's—or more—a Roman's bed?

What race of Chiefs and Heroes did she bear?

What daughter of her beauties was the heir?

How lived—how loved—how died she? Was she not

So honoured—and conspicuously there,

Where meaner relics must not dare to rot,

Placed to commemorate a more than mortal lot?