And still his bosom warmly burn,
As towards new worlds he ’gan to roam,
With love for Freedom’s Western home.”
This is the opening poem; the closing words of the book, at the end of the final “Pictures of Rome,” are in a distinctly patriotic strain:—
“Farewell to Rome; how lovely in distress;
How sweet her gloom; how proud her wilderness!
Farewell to all that won my youthful heart,
And waked fond longings after fame. We part.
The weary pilgrim to his home returns;
For Freedom’s air, for Western climes he burns;