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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
India
By Gabriele D’Annunzio (1863–1938)
 
Translation of Thomas Walsh

INDIA—whose enameled page unrolled
  Like autumn’s gilded pageant, ’neath a sun
  That withers not for ancient kings undone
Or gods decaying in their shrines of gold—
 
Where were thy vaunted princes, that of old        5
  Trod thee with thunder—of thy saints was none
  To rouse thee when the onslaught was begun,
That shook the tinseled sceptre from thy hold?
 
Dead—though behind thy gloomy citadels
  The fountains lave their baths of porphyry;        10
Dead—though the rose-trees of thy myriad dells
  Breathe as of old their speechless ecstasy;
Dead—though within thy temples, courts, and cells,
  Their countless lamps still supplicate for thee.
 
 
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