I sigh, fair injured stranger! for thy fate;
But what shall sighs avail thee? Thy poor heart,
'Mid all the 'pomp and circumstance' of state,
...
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Poor are the shouts that shake the high-arched dome:
Those plaudits, that thy public path annoy,
Alas! they tell thee- Thou'rt a wretch at home! a great poem tony
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Poor are the shouts that shake the high-arched dome: Those plaudits, that thy public path annoy, Alas! they tell thee- Thou'rt a wretch at home! a great poem tony