 | The bird and the bell, with other poems |  |
15
XLII.
Look to the proud tiara on thy brow!Its gems shall crush thee down like leaden weights.
Thy alchemy is dead; and wouldst thou now
Thunder anathemas against the states
Whose powers are Time's irrefragable fates?
Look to thy glories! they must shrink away,—
With meaner pomp must fall, and sink into decay.
| The bird and the bell, with other poems | |