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Went up, and, kneeling as in fervent prayer, Replied a soldier of the Pontiff's guard.
Enter'd the Capitol. But what are they,

"And innocent as beautiful!" exclaim'd Who at the foot withdraw, a mournful train A Matron sitting in her stall, hung round In fetters? And who, yet incredulous,

With garlands, holy pictures, and what not? Now gazing wildly round, now on his sons, Her Alban grapes and Tusculan figs display'd On these so young, well-pleased with all they see, (138) In rich profusion. From her heart she spoke; Staggers along, the last ?- They are the fallen, And I accosted her to hear her story. Those who were spared to grace the chariot-wheels; “ The stab," she cried, “ was given in jealousy; And there they parted, where the road divides, But never fled a purer spirit to heaven, The victor and the vanquish'd--there withdrew; As thou wilt say, or much my mind misleads, He to the festal-board, and they to die.

When thou hast seen her face. Last night at dusk

When on her way from vespers—None were near, Well might the great, the mighty of the world, None save her serving-boy, who knelt and wept, They who were wont to fare deliciously,

But what could tears avail him, when she fellAnd war but for a kingdom more or less,

Last night at dusk, the clock then striking nine, Shrink back, nor from their thrones endure to look, Just by the fountain—that before the church, To think that way! Well might they in their state The church she always used, St. Isidore's Humble themselves, and kneel and supplicate Alas, I knew her from her earliest youth, To be delivered from a dream like this!

That excellent lady. Ever would she say,

Good even, as she pass'd, and with a voice Here Cincinnatus pass'd, his plow the while Gentle as theirs in heaven!"-But now by fits Left in the furrow, and how many more,

A dull and dismal noise assail'd the ear, Whose laurels fade not, who still walk the earth, A wail, a chant, louder and louder yet; Consuls, Dictators, still in Curule pomp

And now a strange fantastic troop appear'd! Sit and decide ; and, as of old in Rome,

Thronging, they came—as from the shades below; Namne but their names, set every heart on fire! All of a ghostly white! “Oh say," I cried,

“ Do not the living here bury the dead? Here, in his bonds, he whom the phalanx saved not,' Do Spirits come and fetch them? What are these, The last on Philip's throne; and the Numidian, That seem not of this world, and mock the Day; So soon to say, stript of his cumbrous robe, Each with a burning taper in his hand ?”— Stript to the skin, and in his nakedness

“ It is an ancient Brotherhood thou seest. Thrust under-ground,“ How cold this bath of yours!" Such their apparel. Throngh the long, long line And thy proud queen, Palmyra, through the sands - Look where thou wilt, no likeness of a man; Pursued, o'ertaken on her dromedary;

The living mask'd, the dead alone uncover'd. Whose temples, palaces, a wondrous dream But mark”—And, lying on her funeral-couch, That passes not away, for many a lengue

Like one asleep, her eye-lids closed, her hands Illumine yet the desert . Some invoked

Folded together on her modest breast, Death, and escaped ; the Egyptian, when her asp As 't were her nightly posture, through the crowd Came from his covert under the green leaf ;* She came at last—and richly, gaily clad, And Hannibal himself; and she who said,

As for a birth-day feast! But breathes she not? Taking the fatal cup between her hands,* (139) A glow is on her cheek—and her lips move! * Tell him I would it had come yesterday; And now a smile is there—how heavenly sweet! For then it had not been his nuptial gift."

" Oh no!" replied the Dame, wiping her tears,

But with an accent less of grief than anger, Now all is changed; and here, as in the wild, No, she will never, never wake again !" The day is silent, dreary as the night; None stirring, save the herdsman and his herd, Death, when we meet the spectre in our walks, Savage alike; or they that would explore,

As we did yesterday, and shall to-morrow, Discuss and learnedly; or they that come, Soon grows familiar-like most other things, (And there are many who have cross'd the earth) Seen, not observed; but in a foreign clime, That they may give the hours to meditation, Changing his shape to something new and strange, And wander, often saying to themselves,

(And through the world he changes as in sport, * This was the Roman Forum!"

Affect he greatness or humility)

Knocks at the heart. His form and fashion here

To me, I do confess, reflect a gloom,

A sadness round ; yet one I would not lose ;

Being in unison with all things else * WHENCE this delay?" "Along the crowded street In this, this land of shadows, where we live A Funeral comes, and with unusual pomp.” More in past time than present, where the ground, So I withdrew a little, and stood still,

League beyond league, like one great cemetery. While it went by. “She died as she deserved," Is cover'd o'er with mouldering monuments; Said an Abatè, gathering up his cloak,

And, let the living wander where they will, And with a shrug retreating as the tide

They cannot leave the footsteps of the dead. Flow'd more and more." But she was beautiful!"

Oft, where the burial-rite follows so fast 1 Perseus.

The agony, oft coming, nor from far, 2 Jugurtha.

3 Zenobia. 4 Cleopatra.

Must a fond father meet his darling child, 5 Sopbonisba.

(Ilim who at parting climb'd his knees and clung) at their excesses; remembering that nations are nak Clay-cold and wan, and to the bearers cry, urally patient and long-suffering, and seldom rise in "Stand, I conjure ye !"

rebellion till they are so degraded by a bad govern Seen thus destitute, ment as to be almost incapable of a good one. What are the greatest? They must speak beyond “ Hate them, perhaps," you may say, “ we should A thousand homilies. When Raphael went, not; but despise them we must, if enslaved, like the His heavenly face the mirror of his mind,

people of Rome, in mind as well as body; if their reHis mind a temple for all lovely things

ligion be a gross and barbarous superstition.”—I reTo flock to and inhabit-when He went,

spect knowledge ; but I do not despise ignorance. Wrape in his sable cloak, the cloak he wore, They think only as their fathers thought, worship as To sleep beneath the venerable Dome,'

they worshipped. They do no more; and, if ours had By those attended, who in life had loved,

not burst their bondage, braving imprisonment and Had worshipp'd, following in his steps to Fame, death, might not we at this very moment have been (T was on an April-day, when Nature smiles) exhibiting, in our streets and our churches, the same All Rome was there. But, ere the march began, processions, ceremonials, and mortifications? Ere to receive their charge the bearers came, Nor should we require from those who are in an Who had not sought him? And when all beheld earlier stage of society, what belongs to a later? Him, where he lay, how changed from yesterday, They are only where we once were ; and why hold Him in that hour cut off, and at his head

them in derision? It is their business to cultivate the His last great work; (140) when, entering in, they inferior arts before they think of the more refined; look'd

and in many of the last what are we as a nation, Now on the dead, then on that master-piece, when compared to others that have passed away! Now on his face, lifeless and colorless,

Unfortunately, it is too much the practice of govern. Then on those forins divine that lived and breathed, ments to nurse and keep alive in the governed their And would live on for agesmall were mored ; national prejudices. It withdraws their attention from And sighs burst forth, and loudest lamentations. what is passing at home, and makes them better tools

in the hands of Ambition. Hence next-door neigh

hors are held up to us from our childhood as natural NATIONAL PREJUDICES enemies; and we are urged on like curs to worry each "ANOTHER Assassination! This renerable City," I other.' erelaimel, - what is it, but as it began, a nest of} in like manner we should learn to be just to indirobbers and munlerers! We must away at sun-rise, viduals who can say, - In such circumstances I Langi." But betine sun-rise I had retected a little, should have done otherwise !" Who, did he but reand in the suberest prose. My indignation was gone; deci by what slow gradations, often by how many anxl, when Langi undrew my curtain, erving, at strange currurrences, we are led astray; with how Sigur, up! The horses are at the door."_Luigi,"j much reluctance, how much agony, how many efforts Pel it thou love i me: draw the curtain": No esenpe. how many self-accusations, how many sighs,

It woui lapu very much the severity with which how many tenWho did he but reflect for a momeu jutge of each other, it they would be trace et ment, would have the heart to cast a stone! For ***** their causes and operve the progress of tuner, these things are known to Him, from whou things in the mural as *curately as in the persical 10 serts are hadden; and let us rest in the key World. When we contenan miomuis in the mass ss raice that has judgments are not as ours are. vunlaave an sangunany, we ski retember that wherever Justke is all den andered the injurd wi!! Ai thaire Non potues to robbery: THE CAJIPAGNA OF ROME. murder to *Van Noveltunetus bevezme here urt, sind what degan un enter, ents as a'a't Heil lumes They went as though it still were theirs


Hare mee appeard ss tillers of the ground, (141) data are de laws her of selfverunt nature the Wes de son piw a Roman's ?

Ander my cue and claim their own again! putty W' buat ngenderenture pred vetra Itiket anawe the Same de mais udence. * Virgil sings,

From this Seat, (142) *** W * peab?zet8 ore send me The Haver, alighting from the sky, her pane se mund the internet on the law wewa si saw the armies in array;Por eenth ; . * Lihten we het 3 * " He it exe***** 184 day. There were with the PERLUR ULA**29. For pwaarder een and new ve ya rue w sume place sentiments and vulku

(da**bedieval at there are many smeeg is, who, from a de prven en het wateule wa w t (VUN *** kasi 17 anirem

recce sobeir capse: "If the Greeks PN Wie sich bei den we * 22:04ty of acier nations--but they are fole

* Raut sol à dued the characteristic of slaves!

Va ser reuseances. Free, he has the qualisud deltakel, ***, West a reer that

Te saat, sose of a slave At dei imk ****** Men redditure te geneem wow rare are they in the world ; and khi theer ruien wel altretta the wine * we see the want of them! When a mint

i de par sarkanu veseats at auto measure, which, for *GRP mas exting w lenger, be had before refused

der Neck be tervitaan as over the fallen. Do a la mente todo el Wave *** *** ware aan de 4* hou may be ssance be continued best a vida. Nende ved at dette semana scheme rous, and the result of conviction be rete


Let us contemplate; and, where dreams from Jove And reaping-hook, among their household-things Descended on the sleeper, where perhaps

Duly transmitted ? In the hands of men Some inspirations may be lingering still,

Made captive ; while the master and his guests, Some glimmerings of the future or the past, Reclining, quaff in gold, and roses swim, Await their influence; silently revolving

Summer and winter, through the circling year,
The changes from that hour, when He from Troy On their Falernian--in the hands of men
Went up the Tiber; when refulgent shields, Dragg'd into slavery, with how many more
No strangers to the iron-hail of war,

Spared but to die, a public spectacle,
Stream'd far and wide, and dashing oars were heard In combat with each other, and required
Among those woods where Silvia's stag was lying, To fall with grace, with dignity to sink,
His antlers gay with flowers; among those woods While life is gushing, and the plaudits ring
Where, by the Moon, that saw and yet withdrew not, Faint and yet fainter on their failing ear,
Two were so soon to wander and be slain, (143) As models for the sculptor.
Two lovely in their lives, nor in their death

But their days,

Their hours are number'd. Hark, a yell, a shriek, Then, and hence to be discern'd, A barbarous dissonance, loud and yet louder, How many realms, pastoral and warlike, lay (144) That echoes from the mountains to the sea ! Along this plain, each with its schemes of power, And mark, beneath us, like a bursting cloud, Ite little rivalships! What various turns

The batile moving onward! Had they slain Of fortune there ; what moving accidents All, that the Earth should from her womb bring forth From ambuscade and open violence!

New nations to destroy them? From the depth Mingling, the sounds came up; and hence how oft Of forests, from what none had dared explore, We might have caught among the trees below, Regions of thrilling ice, as though in ice Glittering with helm and shield, the men of Tibur;' Engender'd, multiplied, they pour along, Or in Greek vesture, Greek their origin,

Shaggy and huge! Host after host, they come; Some embassy, ascending to Præneste;?.

The Goth, the Vandal ; and again the Goth! How oft descried, without thy gates, Aricia,”

Once more we look, and all is still as night, Entering the solemn grove for sacrifice,

All desolate! Groves, temples, palaces, Senate and People Each a busy hive,

Swept from the sight, and nothing visible,
Glowing with life!

Amid the sulphurous vapors that exhale
But all ere-long are lost

As from a land accurst, save here and there
In one. We look, and where the river rolls

An empty tomb, a fragment like the limb Southward its shining labyrinth, in her strength

Of some dismember'd giant. In the midst A City, girt with battlements and towers,

A City stands, her domes and turrets crown'd On seven stall hills is rising. Round about,

With many a cross ; but they, that issue forth, * At rural work, the Citizens are seen,

Wander like strangers who had built among None unemploy'd ; the noblest of them all

The mighty ruins, silent, spiritless; Binding their sheaves or on their threshing-floors,

And on the road, where once we might have met As though they had not conquer'd. Everywhere

Cæsar and Cato, and men more than kings, Some trace of valor or heroic virtue!

We meet, none else, the pilgrim and the beggar.
Here is the sacred field of the Horatii, (145)
There are the Quintian meadows. (146) Here the hilla

How holy, where a generous, people, twice,
Twice going forth, in terrible anger sate

Arm'd; and, their wrongs redress'd, at once gave way,

Those ancient men, what were they, who achieved Helmet and shield, and sword and spear thrown down, A sway beyond the greatest conquerors ; And every hand uplifted, every heart

Setting their feet upon the necks of kings, Pour'd out in thanks to Heaven.

And, through the world, subduing, chaining down Once again

The free immortal spirit? Were they not
We look; and, lo, the sea is white with sails Mighty magicians ? Theirs a wondrous spell,
Innumerable, wafting to the shore

Where true and false were with infernal art
Treasures untold; the vale, the promontories, Close-interwoven; where together met
A dream of glory; temples, palaces,

Blessings and curses, threats and promises ;
Call’d up as by enchantment; aqueducts

And with the terrors of Futurity
Among the groves and glades rolling along Mingled whate'er enchants and fascinates,
Rivers, on many an arch high over-head; Music and painting, sculpture, rhetoric (147)
And in the centre, like a burning-sun,

And architectural pomp, such as none else ;
The Imperial City! They have now subdued And dazzling light, and darkness visible! (148)
All nations. But where they who led them forth ; What in his day the Syracusan sought,
Who, when at length released by victory,

Another world to plant his engines on, (Buckler and spear hung up—but not to rust) They had ; and, having it, like gods, not men, Held poverty no evil, no reproach,

Moved this world at their pleasure. Ere they Living on little with a cheerful mind,

came, (149) The Decii, the Fabricii? Where the spade Their shadows, stretching far and wide, were known

And Two, that look'd beyond the visible sphere, 1 Tivoli.

3 La Riccia. 4 Mons. Sacer. /Gave notice of their coming—he who saw

2 Palestrina.

The Apocalypse ; and he of elder time,

Yet was it sad as sweet, and, ere it closed, Who in an awful vision of the night

Came like a dirge. When her fair head was shorn, Saw the Four Kingdoms. Distant as they were, And the long tresses in her hands were laid, Well might those holy men be fill'd with fear! That she might fling them from her, saying, “Thus

Thus I renounce the world and worldly things!"

When, as she stood, her bridal ornaments

Were, one by one, removed, even to the last,

That she might say, flinging them from her, “ Thus, When I am inclined to be serious, I love to wan. Thus I renounce the world!" when all was changed der up and down before the tomb of Caius Cestius. And, as a nun, in homeliest guise she knelt, The Protestant burial-ground is there; and most of Veild in her veil, crownd with her silver crown, the little monuments are erected to the young; young Her crown of lilies as the spouse of Christ, men of promise, cut off when on their travels, full Well might her strength forsake her, and her knees of enthusiasm, full of enjoyment; brides, in the bloom Fail in that hour! Well might the holy man, of their beauty, on their first journey; or children, He, at whose feet she knelt, give as by stealth borne from home in search of health. This stone was ('T was in her utmost need; nor, while she lives, (151) placed by his fellow-travellers, young as himself, who will it go from her, fleeting as it was) will return to the house of his parents without him; That faint but fatherly smile, that smile of love that, by a husband or a father, now in his native And pity! country. His heart is buried in that grave.

Like a dream the whole is filed ; It is a quiet and sheltered nook, covered in the And they, that came in idleness to gaze winter with violets; and the Pyramid, that over- Upon the victim dress’d for sacrifice, shadows it, gives it a classical and singularly solemn Are mingling in the world; thou in thy cell air. You feel an interest there, a sympathy you Forgot, Teresa. Yet, among them all, were not prepared for. You are yourself in a foreign None were so form'd to love and to be loved, land; and they are for the most part your country. None to delight, adorn; and on thee now men. They call upon you in your mother-longue- A curtain, blacker than the night, is dropp'd in English-in words unknown to a native, known For ever! In thy gentle bosom sleep only to yourselves : and the tomb of Cestius, that old Feelings, affections, destined now to die, majestic pile, has this also in common with them. It To wither like the blossom in the bud, is itself a stranger, 'among strangers. It has stood Those of a wife, a mother; leaving there there till the language spoken round about it has A cheerless void, a chill as of the grave, changed; and the shepherd, born at the foot, can read A languor and a lethargy of soul, its inscription no longer.

Death-like, and gathering more and more, till Death

Comes to release thee. Ah, what now to thee,

What now to thee the treasure of thy Youth?

As nothing !

But thou canst not yet reflect "Tis over; and her lovely cheek is now

Calmly; so many things, strange and perverse, On her hard pillow—there, alas, to be

That meet, recoil, and go but to return, Nightly, through many and many a dreary hour,

The monstrous birth of one eventful day, Wan, often wet with tears, and (ere at length

Troubling thy spirit—from the first, at dawn,
Her place is empty, and another comes)

The rich arraying for the nuptial feast,
In anguish, in the ghastliness of death;
Hers never more to leave those mournful walls,

To the black pall, the requiem. (152)

All in turn Even on her bier.

Revisit thee, and round thy lowly bed 'Tis over; and the rite,

Hover, uncall’d. The young and innocent heart, With all its pomp and harmony, is now

How is it beating? Has it no regrets ? Floating before her. She arose at home,

Discoverest thou no weakness lurking there? To be the show, the idol of the day;

But thine exhausted frame has sunk to rest.
Her vesture gorgeous, and her starry head-

Peace to thy slumbers !
No rocket, bursting in the midnight-sky,
So dazzling. When to-morrow she awakes,
She will awake as though she still was there,

Still in her father's house; and lo, a cell

Narrow and dark, nought through the gloom discern'd,
Nought save the crucifix, the rosary,

There is an Insect, that, when Evening comes, And the grey habit lying by to shroud

Small though he be and scarce distinguishable, Her beauty and grace.

Like Evening clad in soberest livery, When on her knees she fell, Unsheathes his wings, (153) and through the woods Entering the solemn place of consecration,

and glades And from the latticed gallery came a chaunt Scatters a marvellous splendor On he wheels, of psalms, most saint-like, most angelical, (150) Blazing by fits as from excess of joy, (154) Verse after verse sung out, how bolily!

Each gush of light a gush of ecstacy; The strain returning, and still, still returning, Nor unaccompanied ; thousands that fling Methought it acted like a spell upon her,

A radiance all their own, not of the day, And she was casting off her earthly dross ; Thousands as bright as he, from dusk till dawn,

Soaring, descending.

earth. “It may serve me," said I, “ as a remedy in In the mother's lap

some future fit of the spleen." Well may the child put forth his little hands, Singing ihe nursery-song he learnt so soon ; (155)

Ours is a nation of travellers ;' and no wonder, And the young nymph, preparing for the dance (156) when the elements, air, water, fire, attend at our bid By brook or fountain-side, in many a braid

ding, to transport us from shore to shore; when the Wreathing her golden hair, well may she cry,

ship rushes into the deep, her track the foam as of "Come hither; and the shepherds, gathering round, some mighty torrent; and, in three hours or less, we Shall say, Floretta emulates the Night,

stand gazing and gazed at among a foreign people. Spangling her head with stars."

None want an excuse. If rich, they go to enjoy, if Oft have I met

poor, to retrench; if sick, to recover; if studious, to This shining race, when in the Tusculan groves

learn; if learned, to relax from their studies. But My path no longer glimmer'd; oft among

whatever they may say, whatever they may believe, Those trees, religious once and always green, (157) they go for the most part on the same errand; nor That yet dream out their stories of old Rome

will those who reflect, think that errand an idle one. Over the Alban lake; oft met and haild,

Almost all men are over-anxious. No sooner do they Where the precipitate Anio thunders down, enter the world, than they lose that taste for natural And through the surging mist a Poet's house

and simple pleasures, so remarkable in early life. (So some aver, and who would not believe ?) (158) Every hour do they ask themselves what progress Reveals itself.

they have made in the pursuit of wealth or honor; Yet cannot I forget

and on they go as their fathers went before them, till, Him, who rejoiced me in those walks at eve,

weary and sick at heart, they look back with a sigh My earliesh, pleasantest; who dwells unseen,

of regret to the golden time of their childhood. And in our northern clime, when all is still,

Now travel, and foreign travel more particularly, Nigbtly keeps watch, nightly in bush or brake

restores to us in a great degree what we have lost. His lonely lamp rekindling. Unlike theirs, When the anchor is heaved, we double down the leaf; His, if less dazzling, through the darkness knows

and for a while at least all effort is over. The old No intermission; sending forth its ray

cares are left clustering round the old objects ; and at Through the green leaves, a ray serene and clear

every step, as we proceed, the slightest circumstance As Virtue's own.

amuses and interests. All is new and strange. We XI.

surrender ourselves, and feel once again as children.

Like them, we enjoy eagerly; like them, when we fret, FOREIGN TRAVEL.

we fret only for the moment; and here indeed the reIt was in a splenetic humor that I sate me down to semblance is very remarkable, for if a journey has its my scanty fare at Terracina ; and how long I should pains as well as its pleasures (and there is nothing unhave contemplated the lean thrushes in array before mixed in this world, the pains are no sooner over than me, I cannot say, if a cloud of smoke, that drew the they are forgotten, while the pleasures live long in tears into my eyes, had not burst from the green and the memory. leafy boughs on the hearth-stone. “Why," I exclaim- Nor is it surely without another advantage. If life ed, starting up from the table, “why did I leave my be short, not so to many of us are its days and its own chimney-corner ?—But am I not on the road to hours. When the blood slumbers in the veins, how Brundusium ? And are not these the very calamities often do we wish that the earth would turn faster on that befell Horace and Virgil, and Mæcenas, and Plo- its axis, that the sun would rise and set before it does, tius, and Varius ? Horace laughed at them—then and, to escape from the weight of time, how many wby should not I? Horace resolved 10 turn them to follies, how many crimes are committed! Men rush account; and Virgil-cannot we hear him observing, on danger, and even on death. Intrigue, play, foreign that to remember them will, by and by, be a pleasure?" and domestic broil, such are their resources; and, My soliloquy reconciled me at once to my fate ; and when these things fail, they destroy themselves. when, for the twentieth time, I had looked through Now in travelling we multiply events, and innothe window on a sea sparkling with innumerable cently. We set out, as it were, on our adventures ; brilliants, a sea on which the heroes of the Odyssey and many are those that occur to us, morning, noon, and the Eneid had sailed, I sat down as to a splendid and night. The day we come to a place which we banquet. My thrushes had the flavor of ortolans; and have long heard and read of, and in Italy we do so I ate with an appetite I had not known before. continually, it is an era in our lives; and from that

“Who,” I cried, as I poured out my last glass of moment the very name calls up a picture. How de Falernian, (for Falernian it was said to be, and in my lightfully too does the knowledge flow in upon us, eyes it ran bright and clear as a lopaz-stone)—“ who and how fast!? Would he who sat in a corner of would remain at home, could he do otherwise? Who would submit to tread that dull, but daily round; his 1 As indeed it always was, contributing those of every degree, hours forgotten as soon as spent ?" and, opening my from a milors with his suite to him whose only attendant is his journal-book and dipping my pen into my ink-horn, returning, hung up his shoes in his village church as an ex-voto.

shadow. Coryate in 1608 performed his journey on foot; and, I determined, as far as I could, to justify myself and Goldsmith, a century and a half afterwards, followed in nearly my countrymen in wandering over the face of the the same path : playing a tune on his flute to procure admit

tance, whenever he approached a cottage at night-fall.

2 To jodge at once of a nation, we have only to throw our 1 The glow-worm.

eyes on the markets and the fields. If the markets are well2 We were now within a few hours of the Campania Felix. supplied, the fields well-cultivated, all is right. If otherwise, On the color and flavor of Falernian, consult Galen and Dios- we may say, and say truly, these people are barbarous or opcorides.


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