The Burial of Sophocles
How lingeringly we reached the guarded gate
Of the dear city fate-enshadowèd!—
As if reluctantly she bore the fate
That stole his presence. For of old ('twas said)
The palaces of Kings had sought in vain
To woo him from his Athens, and the long
Proof of the years had found him ever true:
So, like a lover, fain
Would she have held him from this shelter strong
Once hers, now—gift of a curs'd stranger crew!
But when we left the wakeful, following crowd
Within the walls, and passed the sentinels,
Pausing we turn'd: and lo! for us the shroud
Of silent night hid nothing. All the bells
Were set a-chiming in each memory,
And to fond eyes, that knew the outline clear
Of every tower and temple and the whole
Form of her majesty,
Athens, the queenly city, bade appear,
Rob'd in revealing shade, her wondrous soul.
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