Adam was not content though bounty flowed,He slipped one day when fate his eyes bestowed;
He strayed, o'erwhelmed beneath the tempter's sway,And sin ran forth through all the sons of clay;
What profit sons' excuses, vainly spun,When father stumbled, blinded by what's done?
Would Eve had never tasted longing's fruit,Nor hearkened to the serpent's flattering suit;
O builders of renown and lofty fame,Death shall lay low the structures of your name;
And you shall pass to swift and certain doom,In graves become the dwelling of the tomb;
You built and ruled—yet never turned to hearMisfortune's groan, nor sorrow's bitter tear;
How oft you aided fraud's deceitful band,Sowing disgrace—and reaped a withered hand.
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