 | Lyrical Poems |  |
158
THE ESQUILINE FIELD
Rome, B.C. 10
Beneath the Servian rampart,
Where the air should be pure and sweet,
The dead-man's field of the City
Lies at the Romans' feet.
Where the air should be pure and sweet,
The dead-man's field of the City
Lies at the Romans' feet.
Afar it gleams like a chalk-pit;
But, walking above, you may see
Vast acres of bones that whiten
The gloomy Esquiliae.
But, walking above, you may see
Vast acres of bones that whiten
The gloomy Esquiliae.
There, the lash and the workhouse over,
The corpse of the swarthy slave
They toss to corrupt and crumble,
Not worth its faggot and grave.
The corpse of the swarthy slave
They toss to corrupt and crumble,
Not worth its faggot and grave.
159
There, no longer fit to be noticed
In her master's amorous hour,
The limbs of the little handmaiden
Lie stark in frost and shower.
In her master's amorous hour,
The limbs of the little handmaiden
Lie stark in frost and shower.
There the sighs of murder'd infants
That hardly look'd on the sun,
With the sighs of the coarse reed grasses
Creep faintly and blend into one.
That hardly look'd on the sun,
With the sighs of the coarse reed grasses
Creep faintly and blend into one.
From Africa, Gaul, and Britain,
From Dacia and Asia they came,
Each a perfect human creature,
To toil and fetters and shame.
From Dacia and Asia they came,
Each a perfect human creature,
To toil and fetters and shame.
Torn from the distant village,
Torn from their natural air,
To know nought of life but the burden,
And die and be cast out there.
Torn from their natural air,
To know nought of life but the burden,
And die and be cast out there.
And the elegant throng on the rampart
Essence in hand goes by,
When the whiff of the charnel sickens
The nose of Society.
Essence in hand goes by,
When the whiff of the charnel sickens
The nose of Society.
160
But a social reform is coming,
For Maecaenas will buy the place,
And set it out in fair gardens,
And the dead-man's field efface:—
For Maecaenas will buy the place,
And set it out in fair gardens,
And the dead-man's field efface:—
And fashion will frisk and simper,
And acknowledge the charming spot:
—But the bones and the souls that own'd them,
I say, will they be forgot?
And acknowledge the charming spot:
—But the bones and the souls that own'd them,
I say, will they be forgot?
The souls disfeatured and ruin'd,
Bodies ground down to waste,
To form a broad foundation
For comfort and wealth and taste?
Bodies ground down to waste,
To form a broad foundation
For comfort and wealth and taste?
And Vienna, London, and Paris,
Have they such a field to show?
—How can you?—Culture and Science
Manage things better, we know.
Have they such a field to show?
—How can you?—Culture and Science
Manage things better, we know.
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