And the ancient Roman arches 'neath which I dreaming stood
Grew peopled with the city’s fierce and restless multitude.
What noble game should fitly while the idle hours away,
What gracious pastime fill with joy the Roman holiday?
Should some strong-limbed barbarian lay his life down in its strength,
That the day for Roman matrons should have less of weary length?
Nay, daintier sight the maiden tells, binding her mistress’ zone:
To-day, by Cæsar’s lions, Christian maid shall be o’erthrown!
Within the dread arena pale and firm the martyr stood—
A strange and dazzling sight she seemed amid the soldiers rude;