Forgotten of thy race,
While storm-torn fragments from thy brow
Are scatter’d o’er thy place;
And men pass careless at thy feet,
Nor seek thy tale to find;
Because thy history is not read,
Thy name’s not in their mind.
But thou hast one, who in a luckless hour
Inscribed another’s name on thy worn stone:
’Twas I, and that my deep relentless shame