Manfred by Lord Byron.

MANFRED alone.The stars are forth, the moon above the topsOf the snow-shining mountains.-- Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the nightHath been to me a more familiar faceThan that of man; and in her starry shadeOf dim, and solitary loveliness,I learn'd the language of another world.I do remember me, that in my youth,
When I was wandering,-- upon such a nightI stood within the Coloseum's wall, 270Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome.The trees which grew along the broken archesWaved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars
Shone through the rents of ruin; from afarThe watchdog bay'd beyond the Tiber; andMore near from out the Caesars' palace cameThe owl's long cry, and, interruptedly,Of distant sentinels the fitful song
Begun and died upon the gentle wind.Some cypresses beyond the time--worn breach 280Appear'd to skirt the horizon, yet they stoodWithin a bowshot. Where the Caesars dwelt,And dwell the tuneless birds of night, amidst
A grove which springs through levell'd battlements,And twines its roots with the imperial hearths,Ivy usurps the laurel's place of growth;--But the gladiators' bloody Circus stands,A noble wreck in ruinous perfection!
While Caesar's chambers, and the Augustan hallsGrovel on earth in indistinct decay.-- 290And thou didst shine, thou rolling moon, uponAll this, and cast a wide and tender light,Which soften'd down the hoar austerity
Of rugged desolation, and fill'd up, As 'twere anew, the gaps of centuries; Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old,-- The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule 300Our spirits from their urns.-- 'T was such a night! 'T is strange that I recall it at this time;
But I have found our thoughts take wildest flight Even at the moment when they should array Themselves in pensive order.