To build up their own house,—shall find at last
Ruin and fearful desolation cast
Upon themselves. Their mansion shall become
A desert, and their palace prove a tomb.
Their vines shall barren be, their land yield tares;
Their house shall have no dwellers, they no heirs.
Woe unto those, that with the morning Sun
20Rise to drink wine, and sit till he have run
His weary course; not ceasing until night
Have quench'd their understanding with the light: