Heaven gives its favourites-early death; yet shed (50) A sunset charm around her and illume With hectic light, the Hesperus of the dead, Of her consuming cheek the autumnal leaf-like red. СІІІ. Perchance she died in age-surviving all, When they were braided, and her proud array CIV. I know not why, but standing thus by thee Is changed and solemn, like the cloudy groan Till I had bodied forth the heated mind Forms from the floating wreck which ruin leaves behind; CV. And from the planks, far shatter'd o'er the rocks, Where all lies foundered that was ever dear: But could I gather from the wave-worn store Enough for my rude boat, where should I steer? There woos no home, nor hope, nor life, save what is here. CVI. Then let the winds howl on! their harmony With their large eyes, all glistening gray and bright, And sailing pinions.-Upon such a shrine What are our petty griefs?—let me not number mine. CVII. Cypress and ivy, weed and wallflower grown strown In fragments, choaked up vaults, and frescos steep'd In subterranean damps, where the owl peep'd, Deeming it midnght:-Temples, baths, or halls? Prononnce who can ; for all that Learning reap'd From her research hath been, that these are walls Behold the Imperial Mount! 'tis thus the mighty falls. (51) CVIII. There is the moral of all human tales; (52) 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, First Freedom, and then Glory-when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption,-barbarism at last. And History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page,-'tis better written here, Where gorgeous Tyranny had thus amass'd All treasures, all delights, that eye or ear, Heart, soul could seek, tongue ask-Away with words! draw near, CIX. Admire, exult-despise-laugh, weep,--for here Till the sun's rays with added flame were fill'd! Where are its golden roofs? where those who dared to build? CX. Tully was not so eloquent as thou, Thou nameless column with the buried base!. To crush the imperial urn, whose ashes slept sublime, (53) CXI. Buried in air, the deep blue sky of Rome, The last of those who o'er the whole earth reign'd, The Roman globe, for after none sustain❜d, But yielded back his conquests :-he was more Than a mere Alexander, and, unstain'd With household blood and wine, serenely wore His sovereign virtues-still we Trajan's name adore. (54) CXII. Where is the rock of Triumph, the high place Where Rome embraced her heroes? where the steep Tarpeian? fittest goal of Treason's race, The promontory whence the Traitor's Leap Cured all ambition. Did the conquerors heap Their spoils here? Yes; and in yon field below, A thousand years of silenced factions sleep— The Forum, where the immortal accents glow, And still the eloquent air breathes-burns with Cicero ! CXIII. The field of freedom, faction, fame, and blood: Till every lawless soldier who assail'd Trod on the trembling senate's slavish mutes, Or raised the venal voice of baser prostitutes. CXIV. Then turn we to her latest tribune's name, The friend of Petrarch-hope of Italy- The forum's champion, and the people's chiefHer new-born Numa thou-with reign, alas! too brief. CXV. Egeria! sweet creation of some heart (56) Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth. CXVI. The mosses of thy fountain still are sprinkled Reflects the meek-eyed genius of the place, The rill runs o'er, and round, fern, flowers, and ivy, creep CXVII. Fantastically tangled; the green hills Are clothed with early blossoms, through the grass VOL, I.--P |