Twilight fell upon the country,
Far away a stream was booming,
Time to time the forest whispered
As if dreaming. . . . Then all quiet. . . .
Out upon this midnight darkness
Gazed the greyish cloister ruins
As a giant of past ages,
Who to earth from grave returning,
After flight of years uncounted,
Stands there now, as if bewildered
By the time's fast fleeting changes.
Yes, these ruins were a giant,
Rock-hewn walls its shoulders forming,
With its arms, two massive arches
Stretching in the darkened distance,
While the windows, now illumined
By the glare of gypsies' fire
Forward shine like eyes aglowing.
Quiet, quiet o'er the country. . . .
But gay life among the ruins!
'twixt the walls of crumbling glory
Fleeting shadows come and vanish.
Toward the darkened vaulted ceiling
Soar the flames of hungry fires;
Through the caverns, nooks and hollows
Used to sleepy rest and quiet,
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