Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY, 1837

XIII. NEAR THE SAME LAKE

          FOR action born, existing to be tried,
          Powers manifold we have that intervene
          To stir the heart that would too closely screen
          Her peace from images to pain allied.
          What wonder if at midnight, by the side
          Of Sanguinetto, or broad Thrasymene,
          The clang of arms is heard, and phantoms glide,
          Unhappy ghosts in troops by moonlight seen;
          And singly thine, O vanquished Chief! whose corse,
          Unburied, lay hid under heaps of slain:                     10
          But who is He?--the Conqueror. Would he force
          His way to Rome? Ah, no,--round hill and plain
          Wandering, he haunts, at fancy's strong command,
          This spot--his shadowy death-cup in his hand.


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