|Political Barometer, 1804
This world alas! what woes await!
How shifting are the scenes of Fate!
Let empires tell, now whelm'd in dust,
Which once frown'd o'er the world, august.
Imperial Latium! where art thou!
Where Athens, Phebes, and Carthage, now!
Palmyra, Tyre, Euphemia, where!--
Gone like the shadowy forms of air!
Thus shall proud London's towers decay;
Thus Paris fleet in smoke away:
Even now, in Dessolation's car,
Sits there enthron'd, vindictive War,
His red sword drawn, his standard rais'd,
And ne'er more fierce his firebrand blaz'd!
And here, in these more favor'd climes,
Where Peace her hand with Plenty joins,
Where equal laws and rights are known,
Nor curst with king nor crown nor throne,
Time's mouldering touch shall waste away
The noblest works the Arts display;
Where York's fair turrets beaming rise,
And Penn's gilt fanes pervade the skies,
The fox shall bark, the wolf shall howl,
The raven croak, and hoot the owl;
There, brambles, briars, and hem'ocks grow,
And serpents hiss the ests below;
While some dull pool's stench'd water laves
The surface of ten thousand graves!