At midnight was involved in Grecian flame;
And now, by Time’s deep ploughshare harrowed o’er,
The seat of sacred Troy is found no more:
No trace of her proud fabrics now remains,
But corn, and vines, enrich her cultured plains;
Silver Scamander laves the verdant shore,
Scamander, oft o’erflowed with hostile gore.
Nor far removed from Ilion’s famous land
In counter-view appears the Thracian strand,
Where beauteous Hero, from the turret’s height,