POETRY.

I.

ANOTHER age ground down by civil strife ! Rome by her children impious and accurst Down-trampled out of life !

Great Rome, our Rome, our mother, she that erst Rolled back the Manion ; scattered the array Of old Etruria's monarch, Porsena ; Humbled the pride of Capna; braved the sword Of Spartacus ; the blue-eyed German horde; The craft and fury of the Gaul; And him abhorred by mothers, Hannibal.

I'.

Amid her streets,—her temples nigh,— The mountain-wolf shall unmolested lie ; O'er her cold ashes the Barbarian ride ; The war-horse spurn the tomb Of Romulus, and from earth's sacred womb Scatter the dust that storms and suns defied.

How meet this ruin ? Swear as swore That doomed Phoccean race of yore, To leave their fields, their loved abodes, The altars of their household gods ; To tempt new seas, and stretch their sail Fall-blown before the driving gale : Be yours, submissive still to Fate, Like them self-sentenced, yet elate, Fearless o'er Ocean's trackless waste to fly To lands unshamed, and Liberty.

IV.

Romans ! Is this your will ? Then from the shore Launch forth your ships : the Gods approve : obey You bird of Fate that points the way :- But first make oath : swear to return no more ! Sooner shall rocks rise from their ocean grave, And float, upheaved, upon the wave ; Sooner shall Padua lave Matinas' summit crowned with pine ; Sooner shall cloud-capped Apennine Rush to the Tyrrhene sea ; tigers unite

With hinds, the ringdove with the kite,—

Than we return. Stich, Romans, be your oath t Let cowards press their beds of sloth ;— Forth, manly spirits, womanish tears disdain ; Forsake the Etruscan shores, and dare the boundless main.

v.

Hence, self-devoted, go,

Ye who love honour best:—

Visions of glory rush upon mine eyes ; Prophetic voices rise :- See, see before us distant glow Through the thin dawn mists of the West Rich sunlit plains, and hill-tops gemmed with snow, The Islands of the Blest.

VT.

There the grey olive, year by year, Yields its unfailing fruitage; there the vine Ripens, unpruned, its clusters into wine; There figs, nngraffed, their russet harvest grow, And fields, unploughed, their wealth on man bestow ; There from the caverned ilex sere Wells the wild honey trickling slow ; There herds and flocks unbidden bring At eve their milky offering ; There from the crag's embattled steep The laughing waters leap.

No wolf around the sheep-fold striding With muttered roar the sleeping lamb affrights ; No venomed snakes obscurely gliding Sway the tall herbage ; no destroying blights, Nor storm, nor flood, nor scorching sans, despoil, Such is the will of Jove, the teeming soil.

vll.

Blest summer shores, untrod By Jason, or the Colchian sorceress, By Tyrian rover, or the wearied crew Of sage Ulysses in their dire distress !

Merciful gift of a relenting God, Home of the homeless, pre-ordained for you!

Last vestige of the age of gold, Last refuge of the good and bold, From stars malign, from plague and tempest free, Far 'mid the Western waves a secret sanctuary !

STEPHEN E. DE VERE.