With penitential aspect, as they pass,
All point at earth, and hiss at human pride, 122
The wisdom of the wise, and prancings of the great.
But, O Lorenzo! far the rest above,
Of ghastly nature, and enormous size,
One form assaults my sight, and chills my blood,
And shakes my frame. Of one departed world[52]
I see the mighty shadow: oozy wreath
And dismal seaweed crown her; o’er her urn
Reclined, she weeps her desolated realms, 130