She who defiance frowned, and Britain foe did call.
The Dunkirk of this land!—how fallen since then!
The eye but wanders o'er a waste of stone,
Remains of dwellings once the abodes of men,
But now forlorn, deserted, silent, lone;
And rank and mantling grass hath overgrown
Her streets, her sepulchres, her ruined walls.
The voice of bygone ages hath a tone
Which lingers yet amid these prostrate halls,
As reverent 'mid their maze my pensive footstep falls.