The Royal Tombs of Golconda

I muse among these silent fanes

Whose spacious darkness guards your dust;

Around me sleep the hoary plains

That hold your ancient wars in trust.

I pause, my dreaming spirit hears,

Across the wind's unquiet tides,

The glimmering music of your spears,

The laughter of your royal brides.

In vain, O Kings, doth time aspire

To make your names oblivion's sport,

While yonder hill wears like a tier

The ruined grandeur of your fort.

Though centuries falter and decline,

Your proven strongholds shall remain

Embodied memories of your line,

Incarnate legends of your reign.

O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed

Your flower-like bodies to the tomb;