And then for ever left her bridal halls.
Oh when I last beheld yon princely pile,
Exclaim’d Siverian, with what other thoughts
Full, and elate of spirit, did I pass
Its joyous gates! The weedery which through
The interstices of those neglected courts
Uncheck’d had flourish’d long, and seeded there,
Was trampled then and bruised beneath the feet
Of thronging crowds. Here drawn in fair array,
The faithful vassals of my master’s house,