Undeceived

SECURE within his citadel, my heart, A roystering King, has quaft his goblets brimm'd At pleasure's sparkling fount,—has quaft and slept Has hugg'd the phantom of delight—and slept Not dreaming from his sleep he'd e'er awake To find his towers a ruin, and his bliss Sepulchred in the dust: but now, alas! The truth discover'd, he assumes his staff And walks the world, and when he'd halt, lest Should build another citadel, and play The merry fool he played—a voice exclaims: 'Reflect!—the Earthquake!' and he halteth not.