Shook all the hollow caves;--with tortur'd groan, 56 Shook to their roots in the far core of hell; Deep howl'd to deep--the monumental throne Of the dead giant rock'd;--each coral cell Flash'd quivering billowlike. Unshaken smiled, From the calm ruby base the thorn-crown'd Child. The Genius rose; and through the phantom arch 57 Glided the Shadows of His own pale dreams; The mortal saw the long procession march Beside that image which his lemur seems: An armed King--three lions on his shield[2]-- First by the Bard-watch'd Shadow paused and kneel'd. Kneel'd there his train--upon each mailed breast 58 A red cross stamp'd; and, deep as from a sea With all its waves, full voices murmur'd, "Rest Ever unburied, Sire of Chivalry! Ever by Minstrel watch'd, and Knight adored, King of the halo-brow, and diamond sword!" Then, as from all the courts of all the earth, 59 The reverent pilgrims, countless, clustering came; They whom the seas of fabled Sirens girth, Or Baltic freezing in the Boreal flame; Or they, who watch the Star of Bethlem quiver By Carmel's Olive mount, and Judah's river. From violet Provence comes the Troubadour; 60 Ferrara sends her clarion-sounding son; Comes from Iberian halls the turban'd Moor With cymbals chiming to the clarion; And, with large stride, amid the gaudier throng, Stalks the vast Scald of Scandinavian song. Pass'd he who bore the lions and the cross, 61 And all that gorgeous pageant left the space Void as a heart that mourns the golden loss Of young illusions beautiful. A Race Sedate supplants upon the changeful stage Light's early sires,--the Song-World's hero-age. Slow come the Shapes from out the dim Obscure, 62 A noon-like quiet circles swarming bays, Seas gleam with sails, and wall-less towns secure, Rise from the donjon sites of antique days; Lo, the calm sovereign of that sober reign! Unarm'd,--with burghers in his pompless train. And by the corpse of Arthur kneels that king, 63 And murmurs, "Father of the Tudor, hail! To thee nor bays, nor myrtle wreath I bring; But in thy Son, the Dragon-born prevail, And in my rule Right first deposes Wrong, And first the Weak undaunted face the Strong." He pass'd--Another, with a Nero's frown 64 Shading the quick light of impatient eyes, Strides on--and casts his sceptre, clattering, down, And from the sceptre rushingly arise Fierce sparks; along the heath they hissing run, And the dull earth glows lurid as a sun.