SONNET—ROME IN RUINS.
FROM THE SPANISH OF QUEVEDO.
Pilgrim! in vain thou seek’st in Rome for Rome!
Alas! the Queen of nations is no more!
Dust are her towers, that proudly frowned of yore,
And her stern hills themselves have built their tomb.
Where once it reigned, the Palatine in gloom
Lies desolate; and medals which of old,
Trophies of victory—power and triumph told,
Mouldered by time, speak only of her doom.
Tiber alone remaining—he whose tide
Circled the royal city, now with tone
Solemn and sad, weeps o’er her hopeless fall.
Oh Rome! thy grandeur and thy beauty—all
Have passed away;—and of thine ancient pride,
That which seemed fugitive survives alone!