Ye ruins drear, which sad recall
The faded glories of the past:
Where the lone trav’ller pensive sighs,
And light winds pipe at evening hour,
Low blending with the lapwing’s cries,
The requiems of departed power:
How changed your aspect, since of old
Gay orient pageants filled your bound,
And trumpet and Nagara[[36]] told
Of regal state that reign’d around.