To Beauty? ah, no!—she forgets
The charms which she wielded before—
Nor knows the foul worm that he frets
The skin which but yesterday fools could adore,
For the smoothness it held, or the tint which it wore. 15
Shall we build to the purple of Pride—
The trappings which dizen the proud?
Alas! they are all laid aside;
And here’s neither dress nor adornment allowed,
But the long winding-sheet and the fringe of the shroud. 20