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CVI. Then let the winds howl on! their harmony Shall henceforth be my music, and the night The sound shall temper with the owlet's cry, As I now hear them, in the fading light Dim o'er the bird of darkness' native site, Answering each other on the Palatine, 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 Matted and mass'd together, hillocks heap'd On what were chambers, arch crush'd, column
strown In fragments, choked up vaults, and frescos steep'd In subterranean damps, where the owl peep'd, Deeming it midnight:- Temples, baths, or halls ? Pronounce who can; for all that Learning reap'd From her research hath been, that these walls Behold the ImperialMount!'tis thus the mighty falls. 5 1
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 georgeous Tyranny had thus amass'd All treasures, all delights, that eye or ear, Heart, soul could seek, tongue ask - Away will
words! draw near,
CIX. Admire, exult-despise- laugh, weep, - for here There is such matter for all feeling :--Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear, Ages and realms are crowded in this span, This mountain, whose obliterated plan The pyramid of empires pinnacled, Or Glory's gewgaws shining in the van Till the sun's rays with added flame were fill'd! Where are its golden roofs? where those who dared to build ?
he was more
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 Cared 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 Ci
CXIII. The field of freedom, faction, fame, and blood: Here a proud people's passions were exhaled, From the first hour of empire in the bud To that when further worlds to conquer fail'd; But long before had Freedom's face been veil'd, And Anarchy assumed her attributes; 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, From her ten thousand tyrants turn to thee, Redeemer of dark centuries of shame The friend of Petrarch - hope of Italy Rienzi! last of Romans! While the tree 55 Of Freedom's wither’d trunk puts forth a leaf, Even for thy tomb a garland let it be The forum’s champion, and the people's chief Her new-bornNuma thou - with reign, alas! too brief,
a young Aurora of the air,