Earth has more awful ruins—one lost mind,
Whose star is quench’d, hath lessons for mankind
Of deeper import than each prostrate dome
Mingling its marble with the dust of Rome.
But who with eye unshrinking shall explore
That waste, illumed by reason’s beam no more?
Who pierce the deep mysterious clouds that roll
Around the shatter’d temple of the soul,
Curtain’d with midnight? Low its columns lie,
And dark the chambers of its imagery;[140]