| |
| WHERE now these mingled ruins lie | |
| A temple once to Bacchus rose, | |
| Beneath whose roof, aspiring high, | |
| Full many a guest forgot his woes. | |
| |
| No more this dome, by tempests torn, | 5 |
| Affords a social safe retreat; | |
| But ravens here, with eye forlorn, | |
| And clustering bats henceforth will meet | |
| |
| The Priestess of this ruined shrine, | |
| Unable to survive the stroke, | 10 |
| Presents no more the ruddy wine,— | |
| Her glasses gone, her china broke. | |
| |
| The friendly Host, whose social hand | |
| Accosted strangers at the door, | |
| Has left at length his wonted stand, | 15 |
| And greets the weary guest no more. | |
| |
| Old creeping Time, that brings decay, | |
| Might yet have spared these mouldering walls, | |
| Alike beneath whose potent sway | |
| A temple or a tavern falls. | 20 |
| |
| Is this the place where mirth and joy, | |
| Coy nymphs, and sprightly lads were found? | |
| Indeed! no more the nymphs are coy, | |
| No more the flowing bowls go round. | |
| |
| Is this the place where festive song | 25 |
| Deceived the wintry hours away? | |
| No more the swains the tune prolong, | |
| No more the maidens join the lay. | |
| |
| Is this the place where Nancy slept | |
| In downy beds of blue and green? | 30 |
| Dame Nature here no vigils kept, | |
| No cold unfeeling guards were seen. | |
| |
| ’T is gone!—and Nancy tempts no more; | |
| Deep, unrelenting silence reigns; | |
| Of all that pleased, that charmed before, | 35 |
| The tottering chimney scarce remains. | |
| |
| Ye tyrant winds, whose ruffian blast | |
| Through doors and windows blew too strong, | |
| And all the roof to ruin cast,— | |
| The roof that sheltered us so long,— | 40 |
| |
| Your wrath appeased, I pray be kind | |
| If Mopsus should the dome renew, | |
| That we again may quaff his wine, | |
| Again collect our jovial crew. | |
| |
