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S this the spot where Rome's eternal foe Into his snares the mighty legions drew, Whence from the carnage, spiritless and few, A remnant scarcely reached her gates of woe?

Is this the stream, thus gliding soft and slow, That, from the gushing wounds of thousands, grew So fierce a flood, that waves of crimson hue Rushed on the bosom of the lake below?

The mountains that gave back the battle-cry Are silent now; perchance yon hillocks green Mark where the bones of those old warriors lie.

Heaven never gladdened a more peaceful scene; Never left softer breeze a fairer sky

To sport upon thy waters, Thrasymene!

ACING, as I was wont, on day of rest,
Amid the Coliseum's awful round,

From distant corridor there came a sound,

As of a voice that published tidings blest :

Along the vaulted way I forward press'd, And soon a group of dark-eyed Romans found, Intent and fixed, like men some spell had bound, The Preacher with such power their souls address'd.

The words he spake, his gesture, and rapt look, Betokened one whom Heaven had rendered bold To ope the treasures of the sacred book.

Methought the Shepherd visibly forsook Temples, where holy things were bought and sold, For two or three thus gathered to his fold.

CHARLES STRONG.

RE the wide waters on my view had smiled, From inland vale, in sunset's shapeful hue, Oft Fancy traced their level line of blue, And pictured cliffs where golden clouds were piled;

Often the Sea-bird's wail my mind beguiled,

I loved the boisterous home from which they flew : From out dark pines when winds loud murmurs drew, Methought I heard the waves in chorus wild.

At length I blest a Brother's guiding hand, The goal was reached, and as I stood entranced, A new world viewing from the lofty land,

Sudden-around the precipice that veils The western sky, a warrior-ship advanced,On the blue waste a Pyramid of Sails.

WAS near the walls that gird the imperial town,
Where from a lonely Convent's still retreat

I saw, whilst Tiber glowed beneath my feet, From heaven's illumined vault the Sun go down;

The lofty Capitol, like burnished crown,
Blazed on the City's brow,-each hallowed seat,
Each mournful relic of the perished Great,
Seemed once more brightening into old renown;

The Plain in purple haze lay slumbering deep,
The giant arches, that bestrode it, shone

A bridge of gold to blue Albano's steep.

Man, here alas! for ages overthrown,

With no gleam kindles, sunk in deathlike sleep,
His ruin, Rome, is darker than thine own.

I

CHARLES STRONG.

THOU! whose golden reins curb steeds of fire, Blest be the rosy hours that onward bring Thy glorious pomp, now Night with folded wing Hides in her cave, and heaven's pale host retire:

Fresh from their flowery beds the gales respire,
To rapture new awakes each living thing,
Rivers run joyous, woods harmonious ring,
As Earth, unveiling, shows her green attire.

Now Ocean shines distinct, the bark unmoors;
Flocks to the dewy mountains from the fold
Go forth, the springing lark above them soars;

And hopeful Man, as on thy state is roll'd,
Welcomes the beam that o'er the cluster pours

A deeper dye, and ripens fruits of gold.

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