O sad calamity, O fate most
dire!
A venerable city razed by fire.
Through love's fierce lightnings, or the Fates' stern
hand,
Norwich, so long the glory of our land,
In the consuming flames of Vulcan dies;
England's chief ornament in ashes lies;
O city, what of thee can now be said?
A few fair things survive that thou hast bred;
All life is brief, and frail all man's estate.
City, farewell; I mourn thy cruel fate. |