the hours after midnight
`` The third night it rained heavily all night long , but I stayed up there to watch the soul of my native city . And she still sat staring straight before her , raving ; but here voice was gentler now , there were more chimes in it , and occasional song . Midnight passed , and the rain still swept down on me , and still the solitudes of the mountain were full of the mutterings of the poor mad city . And the hours after midnight came , the cold hours wherein sick men die . `` Suddenly I was aware of great shapes moving in the rain , and heard the sound of voices that were not of my city nor yet of any that I ever knew . And presently I discerned , though faintly , the souls of a great concourse of cities , all bending over Andelsprutz and comforting her , and the ravines of the mountains roared that night with the voices of cities that had lain still for centuries . For there came the soul of Camelot that had so long ago forsaken Usk ; and there was Ilion , all girt with towers , still cursing the sweet face of ruinous Helen ; I saw there Babylon and Persepolis , and the bearded face of bull-like Nineveh , and Athens mourning her immortal gods .