“Amid the desolation of a city,

Which was the cradle, and is now the grave

Of an extinguished people, so that pity

Weeps o’er the shipwrecks of oblivion’s wave,

There stands the Tower of Famine. It is built

Upon some prison-homes, whose dwellers rave

For bread, and gold, and blood: pain, linked to guilt,

Agitates the light flame of their hours,