But fragments rude are scatter'd o'er
Thy dreary land's blank misery.
The sounds of busy life were hush'd,
But still the moaning blast,
That o'er the rocky barrier rush'd,
Sang wildly as it pass'd:—
Spirit of Time, thine echoes woke,
And thus the mighty Genius spoke:—
"Seek no more, seek no more,
Splendour past and glories o'er,