Or the shrill trumpet, pealing up through heaven!
Rest in your silent homes, ye brave!
No vines festoon your lonely tree,[258]
No harvest o’er your war-field wave,
Till rushing winds proclaim—The land is free!
[258] A single tree appears in Mr Williams’ impressive picture.
THE VIEW FROM CASTRI.
FROM A PAINTING BY WILLIAMS.
There have been bright and glorious pageants here,
Where now gray stones and moss-grown columns lie;