Where every sin o’er sinful men prevail’d;
Who, when he landed, look’d in every street,
As he was wont, a busy crowd to meet;
But now of living beings found he none;
Death had been there, and turn’d them all to stone.
All in an instant, as they were employ’d,
Was life in every living man destroy’d— 470
The rich, the poor, the timid, and the bold,
Made in a moment such as we behold.”
“Come, my good lad, you’ve yet a room to see.