Yet, there somehow passed to me from him—where'er the virtue might lie—
Something that inspires my soul—Oh, by assistance
Doubtlessly of Peter!—still, he 's worth just what he 's worth!
"'T is my own soul soars now: soaring—how? By crawling!
I 'll to Rome, before Rome's feet the temporal-supreme lay prostrate!
'Hands' (I 'll say) 'proficient once in pulling, hauling
This and that way men as I was minded—feet now clasp!'
Ay, the Kaiser's self has wrung them in his fervor!
Now—they only sue to slave for Rome, nor at one doit the cost rate.
Rome's adopted child—no bone, no muscle, nerve or