Ramparts

I saw the ramparts of my native land. One time so strong, now dropping in decay.

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro’ the perilous fight, o’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming.

To such vain quest he cared not to reply, / but, heaving from his breast a deep-drawn sigh, / "Fly, Goddess-born! and get thee from the fire! / The foes", he said, "are on the ramparts. Fly! / All Troy is tumbling from her topmost spire. / No more can Priam's land, nor Priam's self require."

I reach the ramparts and the shadowy gates / whence first I issued, backward through the night / my studied steps retracing. Horror waits / around; the very silence breeds affright.

This is all that remains of the old ramparts.