Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/25

XXXVI.

The signs are full. They are not in the sky,
Nor in the many voices of the air,
Nor the swift clouds. No fiery hosts on high
Toss their wild spears; no meteor-banners glare,
No comet fiercely shakes its blazing hair,
And yet the signs are full: too truly seen
In the thinn'd ramparts, in the pale despair
Which lends one language to a people's mien,

And in the ruin'd heaps where walls and towers have been!

XXXVII.

It is a night of beauty; such a night
As, from the sparry grot or laurel-shade,
Or wave in marbled cavern rippling bright,
Might woo the nymphs of Grecian fount and glade
To sport beneath its moonbeams, which pervade
Their forest-haunts: a night, to rove alone,
Where the young leaves by vernal winds are sway'd,
And the reeds whisper, with a dreamy tone

Of melody, that seems to breathe from worlds unknown.