as her imagination painted with melancholy touches, the deserted plains of troy, such as they appeared in this after-day, she reanimated the landscape with the following little story.
stanzas
o'er ilion's plains, where once the warrior bled, and once the poet rais'd his deathless strain, o'er ilion's plains a weary driver led his stately camels: for the ruin'd fane wide round the lonely scene his glance he threw, for now the red cloud faded in the west, and twilight o'er the silent landscape drew her deep'ning veil; eastward his course he prest:
there, on the grey horizon's glimm'ring bound, rose the proud columns of deserted troy, and wandering shepherds now a shelter found within those walls, where princes wont to joy.
beneath a lofty porch the driver pass'd, then, from his camels heav'd the heavy load;partook with them the simple, cool repast, and in short vesper gave himself to god.
from distant lands with merchandise he came, his all of wealth his patient servants bore;oft deep-drawn sighs his anxious wish proclaim to reach, again, his happy cottage door;for there, his wife, his little children, dwell;their smiles shall pay the toil of many an hour:
ev'n now warm tears to expectation swell, as fancy o'er his mind extends her pow'r.
a death-like stillness reign'd, where once the song, the song of heroes, wak'd the midnight air, save, when a solemn murmur roll'd along, that seem'd to say--'for future worlds prepare.'
for time's imperious voice was frequent heard shaking the marble temple to its fall, (by hands he long had conquer'd, vainly rear'd), and distant ruins answer'd to his call.
while hamet slept, his camels round him lay, beneath him, all his store of wealth was piled;and here, his cruse and empty wallet lay, and there, the flute that chear'd him in the wild.