e-- Laying her Sumners quiet on the shelf! For vain regrets her time will then be ample, Her idle spindles gathering no pelf. Inevitable fate!
and then, when non est Her profit, she'll in wrath, at least, be honest. Pompeii sported — eating, drinking, making love, in House, hall, or chamber, to the latest hour; The baker, jocund, putting in his oven The neatest little loaves of four ace flour; And not a soul suspecting that above, in Laden darkness came volcanic shower! And yet it came!
Vesuvius, 'midst the flashes Of lurid gloom, sent up a world of ashes! And so the world (except of ashes) ended For proud old Pompeii and all her people. They would no doubt have gallantly defended Themselves, if possible; but 'neath a heap, all Ash and cinders, they in vain contended With fate — when ashes buried even the steeple. Sad lot, Pompeii I was for you selected, And came, besides, so very unexpected. All hail, New-England!
We have heard your cry For Pompey, till the matter's rather stal