And there they stand, as stands a lofty mind,

Worn, but unstooping to the baser crowd,

All tenantless, save to the crannying Wind,

Or holding dark communion with the Cloud

There was a day when they were young and proud;

Banners on high, and battles[300] passed below;

But they who fought are in a bloody shroud,

And those which waved are shredless dust ere now,[ii]

And the bleak battlements shall bear no future blow.