Thou who within thyself dost not behold
Ruins as great as these, though not as old,
Can’st scarce through life have travelled many a year,
Or lack’st the spirit of a pilgrim here.
Youth hath its walls of strength, its towers of pride;
Love, its warm hearth-stones; Hope, its prospects wide;
Life’s fortress in thee, held these one, and all,
And they have fallen to ruin, or shall fall.