Rome, Florence. Venice-noble, fair and quaint, Of God upon the maples! Answer Him I see the sun break over you: the mist WILLIAM DOUW LIGHTHALL. "O World-God, give me Wealth!" the Egyptian cried. His prayer was granted. High as heaven behold Palace and Pyramid; the brimming tide Of lavish Nile washed all his land with gold. Armies of slaves toiled ant-wise at his feet, World-circling traffic roared through mart and street, His priests were gods, his spice-balmed kings enshrined Set death at naught in rock-ribbed charnels deep. Seek Pharaoh's race to-day, and ye shall find Rust and the moth, silence and dusty sleep. "O World-God, give me Beauty!" cried the Greek. Of the Idea, a pilgrim far and wide, His prayer was granted. All the earth be- Cursed, hated, spurned, and scourged with came Plastic and vocal to his sense; each peak, Each grove, each stream, quick with Promethean flame, none to save. The Pharaohs knew him, and when Greece beheld, His wisdom wore the hoary crown of Eld. Peopled the world with imaged grace and Beauty he hath forsworn, and wealth and light. power. The lyre was his, and his the breathing Seek him to-day, and find in every land. might Of the immortal marble, his the play No fire consumes him, neither floods de vour; hand. tongue. Go seek the sunshine race. Ye find to-day A broken column and a lute unstrung. EMMA LAZARUS. I have known deeper wrongs. I, that speak to ye. ye, slaves! Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl To see them die! Have ye fair daughters?-Look MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. |