A huge upthrust of turreted, white stone Commands the level country mile on mile, Immuring in its thick, cylindric walls Waters, mayhap, from Ganges or the Nile. A silent campanile in whose heart Lie the dead murmurings of brooks aroam, The halted flow of rivers, surge of seas, Tamed are the mad, white horses of the foam. Dimmed is the gleam from lakes of beaten pearl, Faded the magic of the Mediterranean blue, The polished ebony of Arctic seas All now are faded to a neutral hue. Mists that have risen for a million years Congealed, imprisoned in a tower of stone At whose broad base a greening April smiles And, half concealed, one violet blooms, alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: AT NICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SEA GODS: 3 by HILDA DOOLITTLE THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: FEBRUARY by EDMUND SPENSER Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT TAKE YOUR CHOICE: AND BLISS CARMAN by BERTON BRALEY VERIS ET FAVONI by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN |