SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
The double night of ages, and of her, I90
Night's daughter. Ignorance, hath wrapt and wrap
All round us: we but feel our way to err:
The ocean hath its chart, the stars their map,
And knowledge spreads them on her ample lap;
But Rome is as the desert, where we steer 195
Stumbling o'er recollections; now we clap
Our hands, and cry "Eureka I" it is clear—
When but some false mirage of ruin rises near.
Cypress and ivy, weed and wallflower grown
Matted and mass'd together, hillocks heap'd 200
On what were chambers, arch crush'd, column strown
In fragments, choked up vaults, and frescos steep'd
In subterranean damps, where the owl peep'd,
Deeming it midnight:—Temples, baths, or halls?
Pronounce who can; for all that Learning reap'd 205
From her research hath been, that these are walls—
Behold the Imperial Mount! 'tis thus the mighty falls.
There is the moral of all human tales;
Tis but the same rehearsal of the past,
First Freedom, and then Glory—when that fails, 210
Wealth, vice, corruption,—barbarism at last.
And History, with all her volumes vast,
Hath but one page,—'tis better written here
Where gorgeous Tyranny hath thus amass'd
All treasures, all delights, that eye or ear, 215
Heart, soul could seek, tongue ask—Away with words I
draw ;near,
«*
Admire, exult, despise, laugh, weep,—for here .
There is such matter for all feeling:—Man ! '
Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear,
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