e stood;
Then hoped 'gainst hope to enter it again.
Two thousand years ago, this distant sea
Teemed with the thrifty commerce of the world.
When Athens was, and when her scholars cut,
With thoughts of iron, their own deathless names
Into the stone page of fame, this vale beneath
Held a great city. These, its tombs, endure.
There is no better scoff at the parade
And vanity of life, than that a tomb suggests.

While we looked forth on the historic view,
We saw the subtle spider throw his cord
Over an eagle tangled in the web.
The eagle fought, not mildly overcome,
And spread his wings, and darted his sharp beak.
At last the spider caught him by the neck,
With his serrated claws that grew like horns,
And killed him; then plucked the vanquished plumes,
And sucked the warm blood from the sundered ends.
From this we knew the monster brought us here
To serve a hideous banquet, and that one
Must need be near, and see the other slain.

The web was like the sail of some large ship,
And reached forth from the Gorgon's open mouth,
On either side, to boughs of blighted trees.
Birds were caught in it, and about the place
Wherein the spider hid to watch for prey,
Their bones lay bleaching in the sun and rain.
Upon the web the winds laid violent hands,
And tugged at it, but lacked the sinewed strength
To tear it or divorce it from its place.
The rain left on it when the sun came up,
Dyed the vast cloth with all prismatic hues,
And made it glitter like the silken sail
Of Cleopatra's barge.

We felt quite sure
The eagle's death bequeathed new lease of life.
We cast about at once, in hope to find
Some object for defense. The tomb was strange.
Alone the spider could have known of it.
A rich sarcophagus stood in the midst,
Of deftly inlaid woods, or carved, or bronzed.
Within, a skeleton, its white skull crowned
With gold bestarred with diamonds, chilled my blood.
A bronze lamp, cast to represent the beast
Slain by Bellerophon, the Chimaera,
Was on the floor; and from its lion's mouth
The flame had issued, like the flame of life
That flickered and went out with him gold-crowned.
A target stood near by, and on it clashed
Griffon and stag, adverse as right and wrong.
About, lay cups of onyx set in gold.
On conic jars were bacchanalian scenes,--
Nude chubby Bacchi, grotesque leering fauns,
All linked 'neath vines that grew important grapes;
And in