Never was conqueror on his battle-bier,
By the veil’d banner and the muffled drum,
And the proud drooping of the crested head,
More nobly follow’d home. The last abode,
The voiceless dwelling of the bard is reach’d:
A still, majestic spot, girt solemnly
With all th’ imploring beauty of decay;
A stately couch midst ruins! meet for him
With his bright fame to rest in, as a king
Of other days, laid lonely with his sword