University of Virginia Library

My youth gone by,
A man way-worn again I stood in Rome;
Again I trod those ivy-mantled halls
Once trod by Sabine Numa, Cincinnatus,
Camillus sage and just. I trod them oft:
A breath passed o'er them from the patriarch days
And made me, for brief space, a ruin-lover.
The Basilics three taught me a nobler lore—
The Lateran, the Vatican, St. Paul's:
These said, ‘In ruins have not joy, for God
Is of the living, God, and not the dead.’
The Imperial ruins never touched my heart;
The Palatine sighed for pomps and pleasures gone:
The Coliseum's crime seemed unatoned:
History stood naked there and full of shames:
The sins of princes living or late dead
Interpreted the horror of the past:
The present prophesied a fouler future:
That Dead Sea of the ages dead which covers
Those cities judged, the empires of old time,
By strange upheavings notified, methought,
Volcanic throes beneath. Daily I learned:
I felt that all the forces deemed extinct
Still lived in Rome, and strove in her. A whisper
Ascended ever from the Catacombs;
‘It was God's future made that Roman past:’
A whisper found me from the Capitol,
‘King Romulus feared to read that Sibyl's tomes;
The lost books shall be found.’ Lastly, from heaven
A whisper fell; ‘Not vain the poor man's prayer!
“Thy kingdom come” means this—the Church's triumph!’

I willed not to be Pope. Four Popes in turn
This hand pushed front-ward when the popular voice
Called me to Peter's Chair. I drave these four
Successively on great attempts. At last
God wrought His Will.