And the low night-breeze waves along the air The garland-forest, which the grey walls wear, Like laurels on the bald first Cæsar's head; When the light shines serene, but doth not glare,

Then in this magic circle raise the dead :

Full swells the deep pure fountain of young life,

Where on the heart and from the heart we took

Our first and sweetest nurture, when the wife,
Blest into mother, in the innocent look,
Or even the piping cry of lips that brook
No pain and small suspense, a joy perceives
Man knows not, when from out its cradled
nook

She sees her little bud put forth its leaves

tread.

CXLV.

"While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; And when Rome falls-the World." From our

own land,

Thus spake the pilgrims o'er this mighty wall

was Eve's.

CL.

But here youth offers to old age the food,
The milk of his own gift :-it is her sire
To whom she renders back the debt of blood
Born with her birth. No; he shall not expire

Between us sinks and all which ever glow'd, Till Glory's self is twilight, and displays

A melancholy halo scarce allow'd

Tohover on the verge of darkness; rays

Of sackcloth was thy wedding garment made:
Thy bridal's fruit is ashes; in the dust
The fair-hair'd Daughter of the Isles is laid,
The love of millions! How we did entrust
Futurity to her! and, though it must
Darken above our bones, yet fondly deem'd
Our children should obey her child, and bless'd
Her and her hoped-for seed, whose promise
seem'd

gaze,

beam'd.