Of unsuspicious Rome. Rest, glorious soul,
Renowned for strength of genius, Margaret!
Rest with the twain too dear! My words are few,
And shortly none will hear my failing voice,
But the same language with more full appeal
Shall hail thee. Many are the sons of song
Whom thou hast heard upon thy native plains,
Worthy to sing of thee; the hour is come;
Take we our seats and let the dirge begin.