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CLIO IN THE CAPITOL
  
  
  
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CLIO IN THE CAPITOL

SEEN AT SUNSET FROM THE LIBRARY WINDOW OPPOSITE

[_]

[Franzoni's Clock, with the marble sculpture of the Muse of History, Clio, listening and writing, upon a winged chariot—one wheel of which, supported by the hemisphere of a globe, is the clock-face—stands over the northern entrance of the Old Hall of Representatives, now assigned for the statues and portraits of our great public men at Washington. Through the centre of this Old Hall is the passage from the Rotunda of the Capitol toward the present Hall of Representatives.]

Here, looking down, I see her Grecian grace,
With the still halo of the last, low ray,
Motionless, beautiful, in the Sacred Place,
While the late-jarring footstep floats away.
Lo, on the wingéd chariot where she stands!—
(Its hurrying wheel notes the quick hour's hushed flight,
The half-globe beneath it)—in her patient hands
The open book, the pen applied to write!

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In the Old Hall the men have changed to ghosts
Whom erst she marked—who marked her not, perchance,—
And there below, for those long-vanished hosts,
Show marble shape and pictured countenance.
Daily across yon floor, long since so loud
With partial schemes and strifes of public breath,
To the New Hall new-jostling statesmen crowd
Through that White Congress of undying death.
Men of the Past! your word her pages show—
She heard, she saw, she knew you there, indeed!
Oh, ye New-Comers, eddying to and fro,
Behold the still Recorder and take heed!
There she remains, with listening face and pen
Ready to give the patriot's deathless dower:
Look!—living, speaking, acting, passing men!—
The Eternal Present on her Flying Hour!