His natal towers, it chanc'd their mountain guide
Unheedful wander'd from the purpos'd path
Around the dark wood twined; ages had pass'd
Since those huge trees were saplings of the spring,
And trembled when the slightest breeze pass'd by.
Now they rose giants, in their hour of pride,
Stood in their strength, and braved the blast of heaven:
Naked they stood and desolate; the oaks,
Which, garb'd in summer foliage, had been
The glory of the forest, worn and bare,
Were now like monuments of time's decay;
The leaves were gone from all, save where the pine
Threw the wide shadow of its unchang'd green.
I could not envy it that fadeless state.—
Ah ! who would be the last, the only one
That ruin spares—no; if the blight must pass
O'er all around, let it pass o'er me too!
The moon was darken'd by a clouded heaven;
