Waving above a battle-field;
Where bat and lizard had allied,
With mole and owlet by their side,
And forced the bulwark foe to yield.
Some phantasy beguiled my sight
With vision of a gorgeous story,—
Of jewell’d roof, of halls of light,
Of purple woof, of walls of might,
Of pillar’d temples, thrones of state,
Of pomp and palace, grand and great,
Of people’s shouts, of feasting kings,
And all the myriad dazzling things
That haunt the place of faded glory.
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—I started, for a frighten’d thrush
Flew from a tuft of sedgy rush,
Then, gazing down, I stepp’d aside
To let the toad crawl back and hide;
A squirrel brood ran up the larch
That sway’d within the oriel arch,
And then my tread disturb’d the rest
Of a wild rabbit in its nest.
I trampled through the dank thick grass,
To catch the bindweed’s trailing flowers,
That tied themselves in tangled mass
Across the cracking turret towers.
The topmost battlement was lying
Co-equal with the buttress pile;
And dolefully the wind was sighing
Through festive court and priestly aisle.
Time’s robe of green was flung about
The mammoth skeleton of strength;
And scatter’d bones of granite stones
Told of its giant breadth and length.
I stood upon a scatter’d heap
Of fragments of the watch-tower Keep;
I wander’d on, and stroll’d across
The banquet-hall, laid down with moss;
I climbed some steps shut out from day,
Till dust and nettles choked my way;
I saw a mushroom springing up
Where royal feet had led the dance;
I saw the foxglove’s swinging cup
Where knights had hung their banner’d lance;
And as I gazed I saw a hand—
A wither’d hand—stretch forth and write
A short text fraught with holy thought,
Easy to read by dullest sight.
’Twas plain and terse, but sacred page
Gives nought more simple and sublime,
It soften’d youth, it solaced age,
It mock’d the hero and the sage
In these words—“Once upon a time.”
’Twas but yesterday I found
A score of letters, closely bound:
Some were torn in treasured pieces,
Some were worn in careful creases,
Ink had faded, seals had crumbled,
