Though still the empress of the sunburnt waste,
Palmyra rises, desolately grand—
Though with rich gold[48] and massy sculpture graced,
Commanding still, Persepolis may stand
In haughty solitude—though sacred Nile
The first-born temples of the world surveys,
And many an awful and stupendous pile
Thebes of the hundred gates e’en yet displays;
City of Pericles! oh who, like thee,
Can teach how fair the works of mortal hand may be?