CXLIII.

A Ruin--yet what Ruin! from its mass Walls--palaces--half-cities, have been reared; Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass,[oz] And marvel where the spoil could have appeared. Hath it indeed been plundered, or but cleared? Alas! developed, opens the decay, When the colossal fabric's form is neared: It will not bear the brightness of the day, Which streams too much on all--years--man--have reft away.