... I S ARDIS. BY JOHlN GREET. (For the Preston Chronicej.) Lo ' Sardis, by the foot of Imolus, Wnere old Pactolus laves his golden sands, Inurned in desolation, cowering, lies, The shame and glory of proud Lydia's strands. M here now her line of moiarclihs satraps hoar, And armaments the mighty Cyrus dared, That stretched from Xgeia to the Euxine shore? Gone, ever gone I her citron-groves are ...