Should, in a twinkling, disappear!
Such freedom is a monstrous cheat,
A whited sepulchre complete!
An empty phantom robed in pride,
All beautiful to those outside;
A baseless fabric built on air,
At distance seeming bright and fair;—
But touch it, and it crumbles down,
A heap of rubbish with a crown!
A den of crime, of vice and sin,