Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/10

And well might Fancy deem thy fabrics lone,
    So vast, so silent, and so wildly fair,
Some charm'd abode of Beings all unknown,
    Powerful and viewless, children of the air.

For there no footstep treads th' enchanted ground,
    There not a sound the deep repose pervades,
Save winds and founts, diffusing freshness round,
    Through the light domes and graceful colonnades.

Far other tones have swell'd those courts along,
    In days romance yet fondly loves to trace;
The clash of arms, the voice of choral song,
    The revels, combats, of a vanish'd race.

And yet awhile, at Fancy's potent call,
    Shall rise that race, the chivalrous, the bold!
Peopling once more each fair, forsaken hall,
    With stately forms, the knights and chiefs of old.

    —The sun declines—upon Nevada's height
There dwells a mellow flush of rosy light;
Each soaring pinnacle of mountain snow
Smiles in the richness of that parting glow,