And as I pondered these opposed shapes My eyelids sank in stupor, that dull swoon 20 Which drugs and with a leaden mantle drapes The outworn to worse weariness. But soon A sharp and clashing noise the stillness broke, And from the evil lethargy I woke. The angel's wings had fallen, stone on stone, 25 And lay there shattered; hence the sudden sound: A warrior leaning on his sword alone Now watched the sphinx with that regard profound; The sphinx unchanged looked forthright, as aware Of nothing in the vast abyss of air. 30 Again I sank in that repose unsweet, Again a clashing noise my slumber rent; The warrior's sword lay broken at his feet: An unarmed man with raised hands impotent Now stood before the sphinx, which ever kept 35 Such mien as if open eyes it slept. My eyelids sank in spite of wonder grown; A louder crash upstartled me in dread: The man had fallen forward, stone on stone, And lay there shattered, with his trunkless head 40 Between the monster's large quiescent paws, Beneath its grand front changeless as life's laws. The moon had circled westward full and bright, And made the temple-front a mystic dream, And bathed the whole enclosure with its light, 45 The sworded angel's wrecks, the sphinx supreme: I pondered long that cold majestic face Whose vision seemed of infinite void space. XXI Anear the centre of that northern crest Stands out a level upland bleak and bare, From which the city east and south and west Sinks gently in long waves; and throned there An Image sits, stupendous, superhuman, 5 The bronze colossus of a winged Woman, Upon a graded granite base foursquare. Low-seated she leans forward massively, With cheek on clenched left hand, the forearm's might Erect, its elbow on her rounded knee; 10 Across a clasped book in her lap the right Upholds a pair of compasses; she gazes With full set eyes, but wandering in thick mazes Of sombre thought beholds no outward sight. Words cannot picture her; but all men know 15 That solemn sketch the pure sad artist wrought Three centuries and threescore years ago, With phantasies of his peculiar thought: The instruments of carpentry and science Scattered about her feet, in strange alliance 20 With the keen wolf-hound sleeping undistraught; Scales, hour-glass, bell, and magic-square above; The grave and solid infant perched beside, With open winglets that might bear a dove, Intent upon its tablets, heavy-eyed; 25 Her folded wings as of a mighty eagle, But all too impotent to lift the regal Robustness of her earth-born strength and pride;