“ And through its halls the pipe and sistrum rang, While wine and riot brought their scarlet stains; Never a voice of elder marvels sang, Nor any eye call’d up the hills and plains. Thus down the years, till on one purple night A drunken minstrel in his careless verse Spoke the vile words that should not see the light, And stirr’d the shadows of an ancient curse. Forests may fall, but not the dusk they shield ”
