My thoughts arise and fade in solitude,
The verse that would invest them melts away
Like moonlight in the heaven of spreading day:
How beautiful they were, how firm they stood,
Flecking the starry sky like woven pearl!
by Herman Melville
Over against the Temple here
A monastery unrestored —
Named from Prediction of Our Lord —
Crumbled long since. Outlying near,
Some stones remain, which seats afford: