50 
4 Read, stranger, in this ruin’s fate 
An emblem true of life; 
Conflicting passions —love and hate, 
Joy, sorrow, fear, and strife, — 
Combine, alas ! in one dark plan 
To storm the 44 citadel of man.” 
* And should they fail, a foe is near 
Who ne’er defeat hath known; — 
Time ever follows in the rear, 
He wills, — the work is done; 
For where’s the beauty, strength, or pride, 
Have e’er his withering touch defied ? 
4 Wear’st thou to-day the wreath of fame? 
Oh, heed it—heed it not; 
A few brief years, thy place and name 
May be alike forgot, 
And but a lowly flow’ret wave 
Upon thy unremember’d grave. 
4 Here ends the semblance,—never more 
This ruin’d pile shall rise, 
But Man a seraph blest shall soar, 
When what is mortal dies, 
If, while earth’s changing paths he trod, 
His heart and hopes were fix’d on God.’ 
