When Thebes in days of yore was sack’d,
And naught the fury of the troops could hinder;
What’s true yet marv’lous to rehearse,
So well the common soldiers relish’d verse,
They scorn’d to burn the dwelling-house of Pindar.
With awe did Alexander view
The house of my great cousin too,
And gazing on the building, thus he sigh’d—
“General Parmenio, mark that house before ye!
That lodging tells a melancholy story: