 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
“Hath memory wed with madness that thou sayst
‘Alone,’ proud Prætor? one yet looks on Jove
And sees no deity; one yet awaits
The pleasure of Campania's haughty lord.
The hour and scene fit well the deadly fight,
Yet I behold no foe; what wouldst thou more?”
Pansa stood motionless and spake in scorn.
‘Alone,’ proud Prætor? one yet looks on Jove
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The pleasure of Campania's haughty lord.
The hour and scene fit well the deadly fight,
Yet I behold no foe; what wouldst thou more?”
Pansa stood motionless and spake in scorn.
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |