One hour, one moment, hath reveal’d
What years in darkness had conceal’d,
But all in vain—the gulf of time
Refused to close upon his crime;
And guilt that slept on flowers shall know
The earthquake was but hush’d below!
—Here, where amidst the noble dead,
Awed by their fame, he dare not tread;
Where, left by him to dark decay,
Their trophies moulder fast away,