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Sonnets by the Rev. Charles Strong | ||
XXXVII.
The tidings came—my Brother was no more—
Heart-stricken, to the Palatine I went,
There on a sculptured stone Time's hand had rent,
I sat me down my spirit to restore:
Heart-stricken, to the Palatine I went,
There on a sculptured stone Time's hand had rent,
I sat me down my spirit to restore:
Friends there were none, They wept on Albion's shore;
Yet each grey Fane, each aged Monument,
Seemed on my sorrow feelingly intent:
Such look of sympathy the Ruins wore.
Yet each grey Fane, each aged Monument,
Seemed on my sorrow feelingly intent:
Such look of sympathy the Ruins wore.
And Men, with whose high deeds the world yet rings,
Appeared, as evening gloomed, and Conquerors pass'd
With Nations in their train, and captive Kings;
Appeared, as evening gloomed, and Conquerors pass'd
With Nations in their train, and captive Kings;
And voices, from that shadowy concourse vast,
Whispering the vanity of earthly things
Were heard, as flitted by the midnight blast.
Whispering the vanity of earthly things
Were heard, as flitted by the midnight blast.
Rome, 1822.
Sonnets by the Rev. Charles Strong | ||