« AnteriorContinuar »
While the dull night's startled ear
Shrinks aghast with thrilling fear!
Or stand with thin robes wasting soon,
And eyes that blast the sick'ning moon!
.Yet these, ere Time had mll'd their years away,
Ere Death's fell arm had mark'd its aim,
Rul'd yon proud tow'rs with ample sway,
Beheld the trembling swains obey,
And wrought the glorious deed that swell'd the
» trump of Fame.
But why o'er these indulge the bursting sigh?
Yon waste where roaming lions howl, Yon aisle where moans the grey-eyed owl, Shows the proud Persian's great abode ;* Where sceptred once, an earthly god! ] Iispow'r-clad arm controul'd each happier clime, Where sports the warbling Muse, and Fancy soars sublime.
Hark! what dire sound rolls murm'ring on the
Ah! what soul-thrilling scene appears? [gale?
I see the column'd arches fail!
And structures hoar, the boast of years!
What mould'ring piles, decay'd,
Gleam through the moon-streak'd shade,
Where Rome'sproud genius rear'd herawful brow!
Sad monument!—Ambition near
Rolls on the dust, and pours a tear;
Pale Honour drops the flutt'ring plume,
And Conquest weeps o'er Ca:sar's tomb;
Slow Patience sits, with eye deprest,
And Courage beats his sobbing breast;
Ev'n War's red cheek the gushing streams o'er
flow, And Fancy's list'ning ear attends the plaint of
Lo, on yon pyramid sublime,
VOL. II. L
Thence rolls the mighty Pow'r his broad survey, And seals the nations' awful doom: lie sees proud Grandeur's meteor ray; He yields to joy the festive day; Then sweeps the lengthening shade, and marks them for the tomb.
ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE
W ELL, this poetic itch creeps on i