As we now gaze upon the mammoth's bones,
And wonder what old world such things could see,
Or hieroglyphics on Egyptian stones,
The pleasant riddles of futurity—
Guessing at what shall happily be hid,
As the real purpose of a pyramid.
CXXXVIII.
Reader! I have kept my word,—at least so far
As the first Canto promised. You have now
Had sketches of Love—Tempest—Travel—War,—