O’er the flowers it brought from its childhood’shome—
Think thou again of the woody glade,
And the sound by the rustling ivy made—
Think of the tree at thy father’s door,
And the kindly spell shall have power once more!
ROMAN GIRL’S SONG.
“Roma, Roma, Roma!
Non e piu come era prima.”
Rome, Rome! thou art no more
As thou hast been!