 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
135
IN ROME
1877
A Pope was buried, a Pope is made,
Scarce out of hearing, a king lies dead.
The world is full of wonder and noise,
The world is full of doubting and choice.
And Faith and Freedom, the two God gave
In one blest birth, to help and save,
Threaten each other from either grave.
Scarce out of hearing, a king lies dead.
The world is full of wonder and noise,
The world is full of doubting and choice.
And Faith and Freedom, the two God gave
In one blest birth, to help and save,
Threaten each other from either grave.
But here in the broad street lying before
The ancient columns that watch my door,
The diggers have brought a form to light,
A vestal, clad in her garments white,
A figure of energy and bloom
Carved on the slab of an ancient tomb,
Mocking the ashes that lay in earth
With the vanished beauty and stolen worth.
The ancient columns that watch my door,
The diggers have brought a form to light,
A vestal, clad in her garments white,
A figure of energy and bloom
Carved on the slab of an ancient tomb,
Mocking the ashes that lay in earth
With the vanished beauty and stolen worth.
Busy people who pass this way,
Lessen their hurry and delay
To look on the calm that from ages past
Leaves its sweet record in marble massed.
To me a hope arose from the pit,
As when Israel's future was hid in it.
And in this chaos of fight and feud,
With the murderous battle-interlude,
And the minds of men so ill-combined
Against the foes of our human-kind—
It seemed that the diggers of reasons deep
Might rouse a form from her silent sleep,
And Truth, the vestal crowned with flame,
Truth, the name beyond every name,
Wearing her solemn, sweet aspèct,
Ev'n though with earth stains marred and flecked,
Might stay the headlong and calm the strife
With the inner spell of her spirit life,
Match the loud pæan with holy psalm,
And heal all wounds with eternal calm.
Lessen their hurry and delay
To look on the calm that from ages past
Leaves its sweet record in marble massed.
To me a hope arose from the pit,
As when Israel's future was hid in it.
136
With the murderous battle-interlude,
And the minds of men so ill-combined
Against the foes of our human-kind—
It seemed that the diggers of reasons deep
Might rouse a form from her silent sleep,
And Truth, the vestal crowned with flame,
Truth, the name beyond every name,
Wearing her solemn, sweet aspèct,
Ev'n though with earth stains marred and flecked,
Might stay the headlong and calm the strife
With the inner spell of her spirit life,
Match the loud pæan with holy psalm,
And heal all wounds with eternal calm.
| From Sunset Ridge | |