Refining gradual, for her final height,
And purging off some dross at every sphere! 2112
By this dark pall thrown o’er the silent world!
By the world’s kings, and kingdoms, most renown’d,
From short ambition’s zenith set for ever;
Sad presage to vain boasters, now in bloom!
By the long list of swift mortality,
From Adam downward to this evening knell,
Which midnight waves in Fancy’s startled eye;
And shocks her with an hundred centuries, 2120