Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Jugurtha lyrics

How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the African monarch, the splendid, As down to his d**h in the hollow Dark dungeons of Rome he descended, Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo! How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended, As the vision, that lured him to follow, With the mist and the darkness blended, And the dream of his life was ended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo!