Softly slept the dome of Drury
O'er the empyreal crest,
When Alecto's sister-fury
Softly slumbering sunk to rest.
Lo! from Lemnos, limping lamely,
Lags the lowly Lord of Fire,
Oytherea yielding tamely
To the Cyclops dark and dire.
Clouds of amber, dreams of gladness,
Dulcet joys and sports of youth,
Soon must yield to haughty sadness,
Mercy holds the vail to Truth.
See Erostratus the second
Fires again Diana's fane;
By the Fates from Orcus beckoned,
Clouds envelop Drury Lane.
Lurid smoke and frank suspicion
Hand in hand reluctant dance:
While the god fulfills his mission,
Chivarly, resign thy lance.
Hark! the engines blandly thunder,
Fleecy clouds disheveled lie,
And the firemen, mute with wonder,
On the son of Saturn cry.
See the bird of Ammon sailing,
Perches on the engine's peak,
And, the Eagle firemen hailing,
Soothes them with its bickering beak.
Juno saw, and mad with malice,
Lost the prize that Paris gave;
Jealousy's ensanguined chalice,
Mantling pours the orient wave.
Pan beheld Patrocles dying,
Nox to Niobe was turned;
From Busiris Bacchus flying,
Saw his Semele inurned.
Thus fell Drury's lofty glory,
Leveled with the shuddering stones
Mars, with tresses black and gory,
Drinks the dew of pearly groans.