 | [The British captives at Rome, in] The Atlantic souvenir |  |
166
THE BRITISH CAPTIVES AT ROME.
Wrapt in their garb of skins they stood
Amid the pomp of Rome,
They who had vainly pour'd their blood
To guard their cabin home.
Amid the pomp of Rome,
They who had vainly pour'd their blood
To guard their cabin home.
They who had plunged amid the tide
That laved their native shore,
And with the invader's warrior pride
The dangerous battle bore.
That laved their native shore,
And with the invader's warrior pride
The dangerous battle bore.
They who the spear had fiercely plied
On Albion's leagured field,
And to its hilt the rude sword dyed
Despite of Roman shield.
On Albion's leagured field,
And to its hilt the rude sword dyed
Despite of Roman shield.
But now, where sculptured columns glow,
Where sparkling fountains glide,
They trace with eye of wondering wo
The Eternal City's pride.
Where sparkling fountains glide,
They trace with eye of wondering wo
The Eternal City's pride.
Their pure cheeks flush with gallant blood,
Their fair locks wildly wave,
And there 'mid gazing crowds they stood.
The ‘beautiful, the brave.’
Their fair locks wildly wave,
And there 'mid gazing crowds they stood.
The ‘beautiful, the brave.’
167
The music of those echoing streams,
Round which their boyhood play'd,
Return'd, and freedom's cherish'd dreams
But deepen'd slavery's shade.
Round which their boyhood play'd,
Return'd, and freedom's cherish'd dreams
But deepen'd slavery's shade.
Revolting from the lash and chain,
They loath'd the name of slave,
And tyrant Cæsar learn'd 'twas vain
To bar them from the grave.
They loath'd the name of slave,
And tyrant Cæsar learn'd 'twas vain
To bar them from the grave.
Ah! had they 'mid their dark despair
But pierced the veil of time,
And mark'd their future offspring fair
Like princes move sublime—
But pierced the veil of time,
And mark'd their future offspring fair
Like princes move sublime—
Amid the scenes where now they bow'd
With yoked and fetter'd neck,
Beheld those classic glances proud
Explore the Vandal wreck—
With yoked and fetter'd neck,
Beheld those classic glances proud
Explore the Vandal wreck—
Trace marble fanes of ancient birth
With ivied wreaths o'erspread,
While Rome, no longer queen of earth,
Deplored her mighty dead—
With ivied wreaths o'erspread,
While Rome, no longer queen of earth,
Deplored her mighty dead—
Perchance that prophet view had woke
One smile of vengeful gloom,
And they whose noble hearts were broke,
Had calmly sought the tomb.
One smile of vengeful gloom,
And they whose noble hearts were broke,
Had calmly sought the tomb.
| [The British captives at Rome, in] The Atlantic souvenir | |