XXIV.

It seems a type of that elysian shore

Beyond the sable flood; ethereal plains,

Where the wild strife of passion comes no more:

Where a majestic stillness ever reigns;

Where thought and memory, born, as here, from pains

Ennobling, bid us meaner things forget,

Cleansing the spirit from its earthlier stains;

Too calm for joy-too soothing for regret,

A world where all is still, but where life's sun is set.

XXV.

And there it lies, full flooding that pale ground

With a wan glimmer, and a ghastly light;

While the gigantic circle yawns around,

Vast, silent, savage! through which, twinkling bright,
Shine the eyed Stars; and, strange and solemn sight,
The illimitable Heaven frowns blackly o'er!

Ye who would see it robed in Beauty's light,
View not that pile by moonlight silvered o'er,

But when departing Day leaves there one glory more.

XXVI.

For with that ruin and the dying Day,

There is a sympathy which man can feel;

The red light mellows with its grand decay!

Hallowing the wounds which it would not conceal:

What harmonising tints around it steal,

Hues which are Nature's feelings for the past:

Doth she not ever such with Time reveal?

And o'er the wreck her nameless magic cast,

Religion of the spot that doth grey faiths outlast.

XXVII.

And the rich Paradise within though faded!

The many-coloured flowers, all blushing now
With the last hues and dews of evening braided,
The mosses, and the tufting grass which grow
Fantastically round each arches brow,

Filling each wreck with motion; the bird's song,
Making a festival above, below:

Oh, when the Twilight fades those walls along,

Pay'st thou not homage there, thou dost that ruin wrong!

XXVIII.

I stand before the dwelling of a man

Who proved, ere, meteor-like, his spirit fled,
The' electric fire that still through Freedom ran;
That, with shame's burning ashes o'er her spread,
Voiceless and motionless-she was not dead;

A resurrection to eternity

Awaits her yet; to raise her buried head,

COLA RIENZI! was reserved for thee:

To enthrone her midst the Nations was not yet to be.

XXIX.

Here, like a fallen Angel, midst the wreck

Of some departed world, thou stood'st, while those

All eloquent words which waited at thy beck,
Like spirits, to inflame and madden, rose

Those deep-laid thoughts whose rest is not repose;
The skeleton fragments of Rome's giant power

Lay round; thy passion magnified her foes;

The Roman woke! 'twas freedom's proffered dowers, Her very rising crushed the tyrants of the hour!

XXX.

"Oh, let majestic Rome stand where she stood,
"No longer prostrate to her tyrant's scorn!
"Her robes of mourning and of widowhood
"Cast off-be now the bridal garment worn;
"Let Freedom's diadem her brow adorn;

"The Sceptre in her hand of Justice, while,
"Like a fair bride rejoicing, onward borne,

"She meets her bridegroom with that prescient smile "Of joy, which doth the present, and the past, beguile.”

XXXI.

Thy prayer was granted: then, her princeliest word
Claimed fealty from those to whom her name
Had been a mockery; they, astounded, heard;
And deemed awhile revived her patriot flame,
Her Power united which the world should tame;

Where was thy mind, which, if all equal, then

Had centered in itself the rays of Fame?

Who failed?-thyself: toys filled those moments,

when

The Roman world-all-all had been revived again.

XXXII.

Patriot, sage, poet, orator, each part

Was thine, nought wanting; but the unattained,
The greatest was behind-the Hero's heart!

Dazzled and giddy wert thou, thy height gained,
With flattery whispering that the Tribune reigned;
Foes mocked; and patriots saw their liberty

By crime, and vanity, and folly stained;

Failure, flight, cowardice, apostacy,

Proved what thou wert, too late, frail martyr of the free!

XXXIII.

But in thy fall a moral taught sublime
Was left-a warning what to seek or shun
By patriots through all ages and all time:
Freedom by valour must be held as won;
No sheltered flower to blossom in the sun,
But a tossed vessel reeling to the blast:

Though the wild waves in mountains o'er her run, Though the red Lightnings rend her crashing mast, Fixed must the Helmsman stand who steers her home at last!