Rome
ROME, on thine air I cast my soul adrift,
To soar sublime; do thou, O Rome, receive
This soul of mine and flood it with thy light.
Not curiously concerned with little things
To thee I come; who is there that would seek
For butterflies beneath the Arch of Titus?
*********
Do thou but shed thine azure round me, Rome,
Illumine me with sunlight; all-divine
Are the sun's rays in thy vast azure spaces.
They bless alike the dusky Vatican,
The beauteous Quirinal, and ancient there
The Capitol, amongst all ruins holy.
And from thy seven hills thou stretchest forth
Thine arms, O Rome, to meet the love diffused,
A radiant splendor, through the quiet air.
The solitudes of the Campagna form
That nuptial-couch; and thou, O hoar Soratte,
Thou art the witness in eternity.
37
