MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY, 1837
XII. NEAR THE LAKE OF THRASYMENE
MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY, 1837
WHEN here with Carthage Rome to conflict came, An earthquake, mingling with the battle’s shock, Checked not its rage; unfelt the ground did rock, Sword dropped not, javelin kept its deadly aim.– Now all is sun-bright peace. Of that day’s shame, Or glory, not a vestige seems to endure, Save in this Rill that took from blood the name Which yet it bears, sweet Stream! as crystal pure. So may all trace and sign of deeds aloof From the true guidance of humanity, 10 Thro’ Time and Nature’s influence, purify Their spirit; or, unless they for reproof Or warning serve, thus let them all, on ground That gave them being, vanish to a sound.