Is this, too, vanish’d all?
It is, with the scatter’d garlands
Of triumphs long ago,
With the melodies of buried lyres,
With the faded rainbow’s glow.
And for all the gorgeous pageants—
For the glance of gem and plume,
For lamp, and harp, and rosy wreath,
And vase of rich perfume—
Now, dim, forsaken mirror!