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102 Found praise and honour at command, Like thee—the darling of the land! I once had lovely auburn hair, Like woodbine curled in tresses fair, And eyes with lustre pure and bright, Gifted with keen and searching sight— A tongue with matchless stanzas gay, And glory in the time of May; The brilliant summer hours I spent With maidens, mead, and merriment! An end at last came to my pride, With all my hopes and vaunts—I died! And, like a stranger, from my head In deaf dumb earth my hair I’ve shed: My flesh is mingled with the mould, And here, proud bard, thou dost behold A sermon to the cot and hall— I am a sermon now to all! They who possess me well may preach! For who my origin can teach? And who can tell my name or race? I have no longer nose or face! Or voice—I am for ever dumb! Or eyes—my eyes are holes become! Or jaws—ah! skull so blank and damp, Thou mouldy, foul, obstructive lamp !