DEEP in the earth long years it lay;

Its marble eyes were sealed to day,

Its marble ears were deaf and dull,

Yet it was wondrous beautiful.

A vineyard grew above its head;

The grapes they knew, and whisperÈd

Each unto each, as evening fell:

“Brothers, keep counsel, nothing tell!”

There was no record left, or trace

Of sculptor or of hiding-place;

The hand that shaped it lay in dust,

His cunning chisel turned to rust.

The hands that dug the grave so deep,

And laid the statue to its sleep,

While hearts beat quick with haste and fear,

And ears were strained a step to hear;

The foe who threatened them that day—

All, all were dead and passed away.

The world had turned and turned it o’er;

Nothing was as it was before.

Still through all change of war or peace,

New men, new laws, new dynasties,

The buried statue kept its place,

With the same smile upon its face.

The years to centuries gave birth;

Heavier and heavier pressed the earth;

Autumn and spring enriched the vine

Whose purple grapes were crushed for wine;

And then, in search of gain or spoil,

Men came to dig the aged soil;

And after half a thousand years

In silence spent, the statue hears!

How did it feel when, fine and thin,

The first long ray of light broke in,

And gilt the gloom with glory new,

And let the imprisoned beauty through?

Say, did it tremble, as a heart

Long pent in darkness and apart

Trembles, with fear and rapture stirred

At love’s low signal long unheard?

Or did it blench as, sharp and clear,

The urgent spade-strokes drew more near,

Blindly directed, fraught with harm

To marble breast and marble arm?

No answer, save the subtle smile,

Baffling and tempting in its guile,

Which seems all wordlessly to say:

“Darkness was safe, but fairer, day.”