32 
PAPERS, ETC. 
Here claim unquestioned, an eternal right. 
The sheep’s rude bleating, and its tinkling bell, 
Pierce notthe chasm, nor disenchant the spell. 
The shepherd’s whistle, and the watch dog’s bark, 
The raven’s croak, the rapture of the lark, 
Die on their passage, e’er they reach the gloom, 
Or wake the echoes of the mineral tomb. 
Here, whilst new realms arise, and old decay, 
And centuries of crime are swept away, 
The night-born filagree of ages gone, 
Fenced from all living gaze, creeps slowly on, 
Pendant from arching roof the drops concrete, 
Till the rude floor the growing erystals meet, 
And arborescent shoots their branches twine, 
Like the soft tendrils ofthe tangled vine ; 
The dazzling whiteness of whose stems might vie, 
With drifted snows that on the mountains lie. 
