Classic Poem

Pow'r, ever envied, yet with ardour sought,
Has oft the proud to swift destruction brought;
Honours on honours heap'd to such a height,
The load immense has crush'd them with its weight;
Their statues from on high come thund'ring down,
And plunge thro' all the kennels of the town;
Wheels of triumphal cars to pieces fly,
And guiltless steeds with broken members lie.
Now the big bellows blow, the forges blaze,
The raging flames a roar tremendous raise;
Grim in the fire the precious noddle shews;
Off with a bounce the great S EJANUS goes:
From that lov'd visage, godlike late esteem'd,
And second in the world's great empire deem'd,
Are fashion'd pots for water and for meat,
Platters for stews, and pans to wash the feet.