12. 
Upon that rock a mighty column stood,
Whose capital seemed sculptured in the sky,
Which to the wanderers o’er the solitude
Of distant seas, from ages long gone by, 1210
Had made a landmark; o’er its height to fly
Scarcely the cloud, the vulture, or the blast,
Has power—­and when the shades of evening lie
On Earth and Ocean, its carved summits cast
The sunken daylight far through the aerial waste. 1215

13. 
They bore me to a cavern in the hill
Beneath that column, and unbound me there;
And one did strip me stark; and one did fill
A vessel from the putrid pool; one bare
A lighted torch, and four with friendless care 1220
Guided my steps the cavern-paths along,
Then up a steep and dark and narrow stair
We wound, until the torch’s fiery tongue
Amid the gushing day beamless and pallid hung.

14. 
They raised me to the platform of the pile, 1225
That column’s dizzy height:—­the grate of brass
Through which they thrust me, open stood the while,
As to its ponderous and suspended mass,
With chains which eat into the flesh, alas! 
With brazen links, my naked limbs they bound:  1230
The grate, as they departed to repass,
With horrid clangour fell, and the far sound
Of their retiring steps in the dense gloom was drowned.

15. 
The noon was calm and bright:—­around that column
The overhanging sky and circling sea 1235
Spread forth in silentness profound and solemn
The darkness of brief frenzy cast on me,
So that I knew not my own misery: 
The islands and the mountains in the day
Like clouds reposed afar; and I could see 1240
The town among the woods below that lay,
And the dark rocks which bound the bright and glassy bay.

16. 
It was so calm, that scarce the feathery weed
Sown by some eagle on the topmost stone
Swayed in the air:—­so bright, that noon did breed 1245
No shadow in the sky beside mine own—­
Mine, and the shadow of my chain alone. 
Below, the smoke of roofs involved in flame
Rested like night, all else was clearly shown
In that broad glare; yet sound to me none came, 1250
But of the living blood that ran within my frame.

17. 
The peace of madness fled, and ah, too soon! 
A ship was lying on the sunny main,
Its sails were flagging in the breathless noon—­
Its shadow lay beyond—­that sight again 1255
Waked, with its presence, in my tranced brain
The stings of a known sorrow, keen and cold: 
I knew that ship bore Cythna o’er the plain
Of waters, to her blighting slavery sold,
And watched it with such thoughts as must remain untold. 1260