Alas, how many hours and years have past,
Since human forms have round this table sat,
Or lamp, or taper, on its surface gleamed!
Methinks, I hear the sound of time long pass’d
Still murmuring o’er us, in the lofty void
Of these dark arches, like the ling’ring voices
Of those who long within their graves have slept.
Orra, a Tragedy