Imatges de pÓgina

4. I see before me the Gladiator* lie:

He leans upon his hand-his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low— And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena' swims around him-he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.

5. He heard it, but he heeded not-his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away;
He reck'd not of the life he lost, nor prize,
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay,
There were his young barbarians* all at play,
There was their Dacian mother-he, their sire,
Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday !—

All this rush'd with his blood-Shall he expire
And unavenged?—Arise, ye Goths and glut your ire !7

6. A ruin-yet what ruin! from its mass
Walls, palaces, half-cities, have been rear'd;
Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass,

And marvel where the spoil could have appear'd.
Hath it indeed been plunder'd, or but clear'd?
Alas! developed, opens the decay,

When the colossal fabric's form is near'd;

It will not bear the brightness of the day,

Which streams too much on all years, man, have reft


7. But when the rising moon begins to climb
Its topmost arch, and gently pauses there;
When the stars twinkle through the loops of time,
And the low night-breeze waves along the air
The garland-forest, which the gray 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:
Heroes have trod this spot-'tis on their dust ye


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

own land

From our

Thus spake the pilgrims o'er this mighty wall
In Saxon times, which we are wont to call
Ancient; and these three mortal things are still
On their foundations, and unalter'd all;


Rome and her Ruin past Redemption's skill, The World, the same wide den-of thieves, or what ye

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1. I COME, I come! ye have call'd me long-
I come o'er the mountains with light and song;
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass.

2. I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest-bowers,
And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes
Are veil'd with wreaths on Italian plains:-
But it is not for me in my hour of bloom,
To speak of the ruin or the tomb;

3. I have look'd on the hills of the stormy North,
And the larch has hung all his tassels forth,
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,

And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free,
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,

And the moss looks soft where my foot hath been.

4. I have sent through the woodpaths a glowing sigh,
And call'd out each voice of the deep blue sky;
From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,
In the groves of the soft Hesperian* clime,
To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,
When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.

5. From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain,
They are sweeping on to the silvery main,
They are flashing down from the mountain brows,
They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,
They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,
And the earth resounds with the joy of waves!


6. Come forth, O ye children of gladness! come! Where the violets lie may be now your home. Ye of the rose-lip and dew-bright eye,

And the bounding footstep, to meet me fly!

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With the lyre, and the wreath, and the joyous lay, Come forth to the sunshine-I may not stay.

7. Away from the dwellings of care-worn men,
The waters are sparkling in grove and glen!
Away from the chamber and sullen hearth,
The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth!
Their light stems thrill to the wild-wood strains,
And youth is abroad in my green domains."

8. But ye!-ye are changed since ye met me last!
There is something bright from your features pass'd!
There is that come over your brow and eye
Which speaks of a world where the flowers must die!
-Ye smile! but your smile hath a dimness yet:
Oh what have you look'd on since last we met?

9. Ye are changed, ye are changed!—and I see not here

All whom I saw in the vanish'd year!

There were graceful heads with their ringlets bright,
Which toss'd in the breeze with a play of light;
There were eyes in whose glistening laughter lay
No faint remembrance of dull decay!

10. There were steps that flew o'er the cowslip's head, As if for a banquet all earth were spread;

There were voices that rang through the sapphire sky,

And had not a sound of mortality!

Are they gone? is their mirth from the mountains pass'd ?

Ye have looked on death since ye met me last!

11. I know whence the shadow comes o'er you nowYe have strewn the dust on the sunny brow!

Ye have given the lovely to earth's embrace-
She hath taken the fairest of beauty's race,
With their laughing eyes and their festal crown:
They are gone from amongst you in silence down!

12. They are gone from amongst you, the


young and Ye have lost the gleam of their shining hair! But I know of a land where there falls no blight— I shall find them there, with their eyes of light! Where Death midst the blooms of the morn may dwell,

I tarry no longer-farewell, farewell;

13. The summer is coming, on soft winds borneYe may press the grape, ye may bind the corn! For me, I depart to a brighter shore

Ye are mark'd by care, ye are mine no more:
I go where the loved who have left you dwell,
And the flowers are not Death's.

Fare ye well,

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[To understand the following ballad you must fancy it sung by a Roman about 120 years after the war which it celebrates, and just before the taking of Rome by the Gauls. The singer is supposed to be an honest citizen, proud of the military glory of his country, and much given to pining after the good old times. The story describes the attack on the city of Rome by Lars

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