The city's hum, the pomp and pride of kings;
All that from wealth, power, grandeur, beauty springs,
Alike must fade, die, perish, be forgot;
E'en he whose feeble hand now strikes the strings
Soon, soon within the silent grave must rot—
Yet Nature's still the same, though we see, we hear her not.
J. HORNER.
Wilsill, near Pateley Bridge, Sept. 1829.