Poems of Felicia Hemans in The Literary Souvenir, 1827/Corinna at the Capitol
CORINNA AT THE CAPITOL.
BY MRS. HEMANS.
"Les femmes doivent penser qu'il est dans cette carriere bien peu de sorts qui puissent valoir la plus obscure vie d'une femme aimee et d'une mere heureuse." Madame de Stael.
I.
Daughter of the' Italian heaven!
Thou, to whom its fires are given,
Joyously thy car hath rolled
Where the conqueror's passed of old;
And the festal sun that shone
O'er three hundred triumphs gone,*[1]
Makes thy day of glory bright
With a shower of golden light.
II.
Now thou tread'st the' ascending road
Freedom's foot so proudly trod;
While, from tombs of heroes borne,
From the dust of empire shorn,
Flowers upon thy graceful head,
Chaplets of all hues are shed,
In a soft and rosy rain,
Touched with many a gem-like stain.
III.
Thou hast gained the summit now!
Music hails thee from below;—
Music, whose rich notes might stir
Ashes of the sepulchre;—
Shaking with victorious notes
All the bright air as it floats.
Well may Woman's heart beat high
Unto that proud harmony!
IV.
Now afar it rolls—it dies,
And thy voice is heard to rise
With a low and lovely tone,
In its thrilling powers alone;
And thy lyre's deep, silvery string,
Touched as by a breeze's wing,
Murmurs tremblingly at first,
Ere the tide of rapture burst.
V.
All the spirit of thy sky
Now hath lit thy large dark eye,—
And thy cheek a flush hath caught
From the joy of kindled thought;—
And the burning words of song
From thy lips flow fast and strong,
With a rushing stream's delight
In the freedom of its might.
VI.
Radiant daughter of the sun!
Now thy living wreath is won.
Crowned of Rome!—oh! art thou not
Happy in that glorious lot?—
Happier, happier far, than thou
With the laurel on thy brow,
She that makes the humblest hearth
Lovely but to one on earth!
- ↑ * The trebly hundred triumphs .—Byron.