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SOTHEBY.

SALVATOR.

WHERE stood Salvator, when with all his storms
Around him winter rav’d,
When being, none save man, the tempest brav'd ?
When on her mountain crest
The eagle sank to rest,
Nor dar'd spread out her pennons to the blast :
Nor, till the whirlwind passed,
The famish'd wolf around the sheep-cote prowl'd ?
Where stood Salvator, when the forest howl'd,
And the rock-rooted pine in all its length
Crash'd, prostrating its strength ?

Where stood Salvator, when the summer cloud At noon-day, to Ausonia direr far Than winter, and its elemental war, Gather'd the tempest, from whose ebon shroud, That cross'd like night a sky of crimson flame, Stream'd ceaselessly the fire-bolts' forked aim: While hurricanes, whose wings were frore with hail, Cut sheer the vines, and o'er the harvest vale Spread barrenness? Where was Salvator found, When all the air a bursting sea became, Deluging earth ?-On Terni's cliff he stood, The tempest sweeping round. I see him where the spirit of the storm His daring votary led : Firm stands his foot on the rock's topmost head,

That reels above the rushing and the roar
Of deep Vellino.—In the glen below,
Again I view him on the reeling shore,
Where the prone river, after length of course,
Collecting all its force,
An avalanche cataract, whirl'd in thunder o'er
The promontory's height,
Bursts on the rock: while round the mountain brow,
Half, half the flood rebounding in its might,
Spreads wide a sea of foam evanishing in light.

ROME.

I saw the ages backward rolld, The scenes long past restore: Scenes that Evander bade his guest behold, When first the Trojan stept on Tyber's shoreThe shepherds in the forum pen their fold ; And the wild herdsman, on his untamed steed, Goads with prone spear the heifer's foaming speed, Where Rome, in second infancy, once more Sleeps in her cradle. But-in that drear waste, In that rude desert, when the wild goat sprung From cliff to cliff, and the Tarpeian rock Lourd o'er the untended flock, And eagles on its crest their aërie hung: And when fierce gales bow'd the high pines, when blaz’d The lightning, and the savage in the storm Some unknown godhead heard, and, awe-struck, gaz'd On Jove's imagin’d form :And in that desert, when swoln Tyber's wave Went forth the twins to save,

Their reedy cradle floating on his flood :
While yet the infants on the she-wolf clung,
While yet they fearless play'd her brow beneath,
And mingled with their food
The spirit of her blood,
As o'er them seen to breathe
With fond reverted neck she hung,
And lick'd in turn each babe, and formed with fostering

tongue:
And when the founder of imperial Rome
Fix'd on the robber hill, from earth aloof,
His predatory home,
And hung in triumph round his straw-thatched roof
The wolf skin, and huge boar tusks, and the pride
Of branching antlers wide :
And tower'd in giant strength, and sent afar
His voice, that on the mountain echoes rollid,
Stern preluding the war :
And when the shepherds left their peaceful fold,
And from the wild wood lair, and rocky den,
Round their bold chieftain rush'd strange forms of barbarous

men:

Then might be seen by the presageful eye
The vision of a rising realm unfold,
And temples roof'd with gold.
And in the gloom of that remorseless time,
When Rome the Sabine seiz’d, might be foreseen
In the first triumph of successful crime,
The shadowy arm of one of giant birth
Forging a chain for earth:
And tho’ slow ages roll’d their course between,
The form as of a Cæsar, when he led
His war-worn legions on,
Troubling the pastoral stream of peaceful Rubicon.

Such might o'er clay-built Rome have been foretold
By word of human wisdom. But-what word,
Save from thy lip, Jehovah's prophet! heard,
When Rome was marble, and her temples gold,
And the globe Cæsar's footstool, who, when Rome
View'd th' incommunicable name divine
Link a Faustina to an Antonine
On their polluted temple ; who but thou,
The prophet of the Lord ! what word, save thine,
Rome's utter desolation had denounc'd ?
Yet, ere that destin'd time,
The love-lute, and the viol, song, and mirth,
Ring from her palace roofs.—Hear'st thou not yet,
Metropolis of earth!
A voice borne back on every passing wind,
Wherever man has birth,
One voice, as from the lip of human kind,
The echo of thy fame?-Flow they not yet,
As flow'd of yore, down each successive age
The chosen of the world, on pilgrimage,
To commune with thy wrecks, and works sublime,
Where genius dwells enthron'd ?-

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Rome! thou art doom'd to perish, and thy days, Like mortal man's, are number'd: number'd all, Ere each fleet hour decays. Though pride yet haunt thy palaces, though art Thy sculptured marbles animate; Though thousands, and ten thousands throng thy gate ; Though kings and kingdoms with thy idol mart Yet traffic, and thy throned priest adore : Thy second reign shall pass,-pass like thy reign of yore.

THE GROTTO OF EGERIA.

Can I forget that beauteous day,
When shelter'd from the burning beam,
First in thy haunted grot I lay,
And loos’d my spirit to its dream,
Beneath the broken arch, o'erlaid
With ivy, dark with many a braid
That clasp'd its tendrils to retain
The stone its roots had writh'd in twain?
No zephyr on the leaflet play'd,
No bent grass bow'd its slender blade,
The coiled snake lay slumber bound :
All mute, all motionless around,
Save, livelier, while others slept,
The lizard on the sunbeam leapt,
And louder, while the groves are still,
The unseen cigali, sharp and shrill,
As if their chirp could charm alone
Tir'd noontide with its unison.

Stranger! that roam'st in solitude ! Thou, too, 'mid tangling bushes rude, Seek in the glen, yon heights between, A rill more pure than Hippocrene, That from a sacred fountain fed The stream that fill'd its marble bed. Its marble bed long since is gone, And the stray water struggles on, Brawling thro' weeds and stones its way. There, when o'erpower'd at blaze of day, Nature languishes in light, Pass within the gloom of night,

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