No rays from the holy heaven come down
   On the long night-time of that town
  
   But light from out the lurid sea
   Streams up the turrets silently
  
   Gleams up the pinnacles far and free
   Gleams up the pinnacles far and free
  
   Up domes, up spires, up kingly halls
   Up fanes, up Babylon-like walls
  
   Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
   Up sculptured ivy and stone flowers
   Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
   Up sculptured ivy and stone flowers
  
   Up many and many a marvellous shrine
   Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
   The viol, the violet and the vine
   The viol, the violet and the vine