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(From Ruins of Many Lands)
I STAND in Carthage; Dido’s city here | |
| Rose into power, and waved her wand of fear; | |
| The seaman hailed her lofty towers afar, | |
| Each gilded palace glittering like a star; | |
| Armies obeyed her nod, a countless host, | 5 |
| And bee-like Commerce hummed along the coast; | |
| Gems, gold,—all wealth within her walls was seen, | |
| And tawny Afric bowed, and owned her queen. | |
| City of Hannibal! who not in vain | |
| Swore hate to Rome, and crossed the heaving main, | 10 |
| Climbed with his dauntless bands yon Alpine height, | |
| And southward poured, an avalanche in his might, | |
| While Rome confessed the terror of his name, | |
| Drooped her bright eye, and hung her head in shame, | |
| For those who sank by Thrasymene’s side, | 15 |
| And those whose blood the flowers of Cannæ dyed. | |
| I stand in Carthage: What! no humble town, | |
| No village left to speak her old renown? | |
| Not e’en a tower, a wall? O ruthless years! | |
| To spare not these to pride and pity’s tears; | 20 |
| Well was avenging Scipio’s task performed, | |
| The flames announced it, and the towers he stormed; | |
| But yours hath been far better, desert land, | |
| Where scarce a palm-tree crowns the heaps of sand, | |
| Old mouldering cisterns, rude unshapen stones,— | 25 |
| For e’en the graves are gone, and leave no bones,— | |
| A half-choked stream, amid whose sedge is heard | |
| The mournful cry of Afric’s desert bird,— | |
| These, Carthage, terror once of earth and sea, | |
| Are all dark time hath left to tell of thee. | 30 |
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