Pious the moss to see no more the ground; br For from this wasted wood forever gone br Is virgin who the milk and wine poured on br The earth to beauteous name that marked the bound. br br The ivy, hop, viburnum, which around br This ruin gather, all to them unknown br Whether 'twas Silvan, Pan, Hermes or Faun, br Its maimed front their twining horns have found. br br Behold! The ray, caressful as of old, br In its flat face has set two orbs of gold; br As though from lip, the vines bid laughter run; br br And (mobile spell), wind murmuring blown, br The leaves, the wandering shadows and the sun, br Have turned to living God this broken stone.