| |
| THE COLISEUM lifts at night | |
| Its broken cells more proudly far | |
| Than in the noonday’s naked light, | |
| For every rent enshrines a star: | |
| On Cæsar’s hill the royal Lar | 5 |
| Presides within his mansion old: | |
| Decay and Death no longer mar | |
| The moon’s atoning mist of gold. | |
| |
| Still lingering near the shrines renewed, | |
| We sadly, fondly, look our last; | 10 |
| Each trace concealed of spoilage rude | |
| From old or late iconoclast, | |
| Till, Trajan’s whispering forum passed, | |
| We hear the waters, showering bright, | |
| Of Trevi’s ancient fountain, cast | 15 |
| Their woven music on the night. | |
| |
| The Genius of the Tiber nods | |
| Benign, above his tilted urn: | |
| Kneel down and drink! the beckoning gods | |
| This last libation will not spurn. | 20 |
| Drink, and the old enchantment learn | |
| That hovers yet o’er Trevi’s foam,— | |
| The promise of a sure return, | |
| Fresh footsteps in the dust of Rome! | |
| |
| Kneel down and drink! the golden days | 25 |
| Here lived and dreamed shall dawn again; | |
| Albano’s hill, through purple haze, | |
| Again shall crown the Latin plain. | |
| Whatever stains of Time remain, | |
| Left by the years that intervene, | 30 |
| Lo! Trevi’s fount shall toss its rain | |
| To wash the pilgrim’s forehead clean. | |
| |
| Drink, and depart! for Life is just; | |
| She gives to Faith a master-key | |
| To ope the gate of dreams august, | 35 |
| And take from joys in memory | |
| The certainty of joys to be; | |
| And Trevi’s basins shall be bare | |
| Ere we again shall fail to see | |
| Their silver in the Roman air. | 40 |
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