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Rh Who to the world gave laws, now horrible

Night covers her. She perish'd, nor expect

More tokens of her ancient worth to find.

Those mouldering edifices, which the plough

Breaks through in shapeless masses, once they were

Circuses, strong palaces, and theatres;

Proud arches, costly baths, and sepulchres;

Where thou mayst hear perchance, for so 't is said,

In the deep silence of the gloomy shade,

A funeral lament, they only tell

The glory of the people of Quirinus.

And this to future races but remains

The mistress of the world, illustrious Rome!

This and no more remain'd? of all her arts

And dreaded power? What could not aught avail

Her virtue, wisdom, valour, all conjoin'd,

With such her opulence, the law severe

To mitigate, or stay the blows of fate?

Alas! if all is mortal—if to Time

Alike the strong wall and the tender flower

Must yield—if that will bronze and porphyry break,

Destroying them and burying in dust,

For whom so guards unhappy Avarice

His treasuries untouch'd? for whom foretells

Immortal fame, the adulation vile