LXIV.

Gathering from her those inspirations poured
Pure from her lips as yonder welling stream,

At whose turf-altar grateful Rome adored:

Who would disturb, or turn from such a dream

On whose clear glass the soul of Truth doth beam? There met the lovers, when no footstep rude

Profaned their haunts, or broke their peace supreme;

Thou, who might'st even now be won if wooed, Sacred Egeria, hear! thy name was Solitude!

LXV.

Inspiring then, as now: the arch is broken,
Thy weed-heaped shrine is fallen to decay :
Thy oracles are silent-they have spoken:
Two thousand years have fled like Yesterday!
All but the name of Rome hath passed away,

Yet still exists the moral of thy tale,

Founded on Truth eternal as the Day!

Nature and Truth are one; all powers may fail,

The Stars may quit their spheres, but these shall aye prevail.

LXVI.

Egerian solitude! the spell still lingers,

That chains us to this spot-'tis Beauty; here,

How delicately twined are her sweet fingers

With the wild flowers whose spring-time is the year: Rome in the deep blue distance doth appear:

And the far murmur of her life is borne

Faintly, as once, to Numa's musing ear!

Creating, it may be, the same outworn

Thoughts, which o'er human life despond, rejoice, and

mourn.

LXVII.

Such be not here indulged: too quiet, this,

For aught but tenderest memories; visions fraught

With forms of past or coming happiness;

Turn gently hence, and be it unforgot,

When passed, but leave thy blessing on the spot!

For yonder, as of old, a Spirit dwells,

Whose influence, lingering here, thou, too, hast

caught;

Pass gently-and ascend the wooded dells,

O'er which Frescati throned her ancient greatness tells.

LXVIII.

The Tusculum of Cicero! the name

To him endeared, and unto us entwined
With all his plaints, and vanity, and fame;
There where to peaceful solitude resigned,

He bodied forth those thoughts, to Time consigned,

On life, and on eternity; and planned

That eloquence of over-mastering mind,

What aweless Catiline dared not withstand,

Struck down, at once, as if from Jove's resistless hand!

LXIX.

Ascend the hill: the olive-groves are spreading Their pale boughs round thee; and the ilex throws Its depths of shade: on violets thou art treading; How their rich fragrance 'neath thy footstep grows! The very lap of Nature overflows

With their o'erheaped profusion; lo, the crest

Of the crowned hill, beside which in repose,

The Grotto's rise full opening to the west : There where the sage indulged his meditative rest.

P

LXX.

And while the Sun, like a material god,

His crown of latest glories on him threw,
Ere sinking down in yonder azure road:
Perchance, while gazing, he sighed vainly too,
Even thus his youth departed to renew ;

That nought his earthly memories might efface:
It may be, thus absorbed, thoughts worthier grew:
He felt he left behind no fading trace:

Installed by Fame for ever in his " pride of place."

LXXI.

And down the gradual bank, ye trace remains Of his small garden, now with ruins crowned: How, from that spot, the eye commanding reigns, O'er all the boundless Landscape! the hills round Shelving towards yon depth of plain profound, Where, in the distance, like a coiling snake, Its glittering scales to the bright Sun unwound, The Tibur's streams their thread-like mazes make To the horizon line, where spreads its azure lake,

LXXII.

The dark Mediterranean! with its bays

Opening to meet his tributary stream :

Oh, the rewarding rapture of that gaze,

When years of hope long past-like moments seem, Making the realised no more a dream!

There sped Æneas from the Tyrrhene Sea:

There Alba's Mount reflects the sun's last gleam;
Nature's chart spreads beneath eternally,

Which Maro's spirit hallowed, while he blessed like

thee.

LXXIII.

This is to multiply among mankind

A life undying: no faint spark, to be

In darkness smothered, but a flame enshrined,

To warm, to animate humanity!

To open every generous sympathy

That draws man nearer to his fellow-men

By ties of virtue and of liberty;

Inspiring, softening his heart, which then Beholds its native worth reflected back again,