TIME PASSES

There was nought in the Valley

But a Tower of Ivory,

Its base enwreathed with red

Flowers that at evening

Caught the sun's crimson

As to Ocean low he sped.

Lucent and lovely

It stood in the morning

Under a trackless hill;

With snows eternal

Muffling its summit,

And silence ineffable.

Sighing of solitude

Winds from the cold heights

Haunted its yellowing stone;

At noon its shadow

Stretched athwart cedars

Whence every bird was flown.

Its stair was broken,

Its starlit walls were

Fretted; its flowers shone

Wide at the portal,

Full-blown and fading,

Their last faint fragrance gone.

And on high in its lantern

A shape of the living

Watched o'er a shoreless sea,

From a Tower rotting

With age and weakness,

Once lovely as ivory.