An echo answered to my sigh.
I gazed upward; throned on high
In a niche of the grey wall,
Folded round with regal pall,
A crowned Monarch met mine eye.
Mailed from head to heel, alone
Seated on his stony throne;
In his hand a sceptre bearing,
On his brow defiance wearing,
And despair and mingled pride
Graven stone nor death could hide.
I gazed upon the wall opposed,
Which another King disclosed;
His helmed head bent forward frowning,
Regal signs his helmet crowning;
East and west were forms alike;
Each half rising as to strike.