Roman Girl's Song

Rome, Rome! thou art no more
As thou hast been!
On thy seven hills of yore
Thou sat’st a queen.

Thou hadst thy triumphs then
Purpling the street,
Leaders and sceptred men
Bow’d at thy feet.

They that thy mantle wore,
As gods were seen--
Rome, Rome! thou art no more
As thou hast been!

Rome! thine imperial brow
Never shall rise:
What hast thou left thee now?--
Thou hast thy skies!

Blue, deeply blue, they are,
Gloriously bright!
Veiling thy wastes afar
With colour’d light.

Thou hast the sunset’s glow,
Rome! for thy dower,
Flushing tall cypress-bough,
Temple and tower!

And all sweet sounds are thine,
Lovely to hear,
While night, o’er tomb and shrine,
Rests darkly clear.

Many a solemn hymn,
By starlight sung,
Sweeps through the arches dim,
Thy wrecks among.

Many a flute’s low swell,
On thy soft air
Lingers and loves to dwell
With summer there.

Thou hast the south’s rich gift
Of sudden song--
A charm’d fountain, swift,
Joyous and strong.

Thou hast fair forms that move
With queenly tread;
Thou hast proud fanes above
Thy mighty dead.

Yet wears thy Tiber’s shore
A mournful mien:--
Rome, Rome! thou art no more
As thou hast been!