On sloping mounds, or in the vale beneath,[49]

Are domes where whilome kings did make repair;

But now the wild flowers round them only breathe:

Yet ruined Splendour still is lingering there.

And yonder towers the Prince's palace fair:

There thou too, Vathek! England's wealthiest son,[bb] [50]

Once formed thy Paradise, as not aware

When wanton Wealth her mightiest deeds hath done,[bc]

Meek Peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun.