Thou bear’st the sparkling wine in vain
With step effeminate, O Phrygian boy,
Erewhile didst thou approach with joy
To fill the goblet of imperial Jove;
For now thy Troy lies levelled with the plain,
And its thick smoke ascends the realms above.
On th’ echoing coast our plaints we vent,
As feathered songsters o’er their young bewail,
A child or husband these lament,
And those behold their captive mothers sail:
The founts where thou didst bathe, th’ athletic sports,
Are now no more. Each blooming grace
Sheds charms unheeded o’er thy placid face,
And thou frequent’st Heaven’s splendid courts.
Triumphant Greece hath levelled in the dust
The throne where Priam ruled the virtuous and the just.