Long wept my eye to see the timber planks
That hid our ruins; many a day I cried,
"Ah me! I fear they never will rebuild it!"
Till on one eve, one joyful Monday eve,
As along Charles Street I prepared to walk,
Just at the corner, by the pastry-cook's,
I heard a trowel tick against a brick.
I look'd me up, and straight a parapet
Uprose at least seven inches o'er the planks.
"Joy to thee, Drury!" to myself I said: