The canvas glow’d beyond ev’n nature warm,
The pregnant quarry teem’d with human form;
Till, more unsteady than the southern gale,
Commerce on other shores display’d her sail; 140
While nought remain’d of all that riches gave,
But towns unmann’d, and lords without a slave:
And late the nation found, with fruitless skill,
Its former strength was but plethoric ill.
Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied 145
By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride;