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Normale Version: EVALUATION.
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What choice effusions of the fairest Muse
Appear to pass as sunbeams fade away,
As if the world was 'custom'd to refuse
That which would honour it too much to stay,

As if a jewel of transcendent ray
Were own'd by one unknowing its high worth,
Like to the vision often blind to day
So of appreciation is the dearth ;

Wonder, when you can marvel that the flow'rs
In all their beauty sink before the tread,
Or that tho stars which gleam their mystic pow'rs
Vainly, for many do their glory shed,
And that the hordes, who trampled classic Rome,
No splondour viow'd than death sees from tho tomb.