Ere hope and power be fled!
And bright in beauty’s coronal
That glistening gem shall be;
A star to all in the festive hall—
But who will think on thee?
None!—as it gleams from the queen-like head,
Not one midst throngs will say,
“A life hath been, like a raindrop, shed
For that pale, quivering ray!”
Woe for the wealth thus dearly bought!