 | Poems |  |
109
CVI
WHERE A ROMAN VILLA STOOD, ABOVE FREIBURG
On alien ground, breathing an alien air,
A Roman stood, far from his ancient home,
And gazing, murmured, “Ah, the hills are fair,
But not the hills of Rome!”
A Roman stood, far from his ancient home,
And gazing, murmured, “Ah, the hills are fair,
But not the hills of Rome!”
Descendant of a race to Romans kin,
Where the old son of Empire stood, I stand.
The self-same rocks fold the same valley in,
Untouched of human hand.
Where the old son of Empire stood, I stand.
The self-same rocks fold the same valley in,
Untouched of human hand.
Over another shines the self-same star,
Another heart with nameless longing fills,
Crying aloud, “How beautiful they are,
But not our English hills!”
Another heart with nameless longing fills,
Crying aloud, “How beautiful they are,
But not our English hills!”
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