SHE spoke — amaz'd the list'ning monarch stood;
And icy horror froze his ebbing blood!
Thick shades of death upon his eyelids creep,
And clos'd them fast in everlasting sleep;
No sense of life, no motion he retains,
But fix'd, a dreadful monument remains!
A STATUE now! and if reviv'd once more,
Wou'd prove, no doubt, as CONSTANT as before.