Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/466

424 Would build up all her triumphs in one dome,

Her Coliseum stands; the moonbeams shine

As 'twere its natural torches—for divine

Should be the light which streams here,—to illume

This long-explored but still exhaustless mine

Of Contemplation; and the azure gloom

Of an Italian night, where the deep skies assume