So well for Liberty and her, lies cold,
Lies nerveless now—a little glorious dust :
Now Roman slaves creep where Rienzi trod,
Eking out pigmy lives where great Rienzi died.

Yet wait ;-men die not all; e'en from the dust
Of heroes men may rise; the soil that holds
Rienzi's ashes cannot all be clay.

Fabled it is that from a hero's blood
Laurels will spring,-it is a noble thought;
And if the leaf, surely the brow to wear it
Heaven will yet provide: if not for Rome,
As Rome alone, yet for that greater Rome,
The Roman Italy.-Methinks I hear

Footsteps like his e'en now,-'tis true, 'tis true!—

Rienzi is not dead, where Garibaldi lives.

TRANSLATIONS FROM THE GERMAN.

SCHILLER.

THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA.

SHE comes, she comes! the proud fleet of the South,
With stately step across the quivering sea,
With thunder roar from thousand cannons' mouth,
Comes, bearing chains and a new God for thee.

In dread array she moves, a floating host

Such as ne'er yet hath ploughed the ocean deep,
'Invincible' her name,―her galleys sweep

O'er trembling waves, toward thy doomèd coast;
While terror-stricken Fame

Spreads far and wide her dreaded name.

Onward she sails in silent majesty ;

'Neath her weight Neptune bows his trembling form;

Within her breast a world's calamity;

Onward she sweeps, and hushed is every storm.

Against thee all this dread array,

Blest isle, proud sovereign of the deep!
'Gainst thee her threatening galleys sweep,

Great-hearted Britain! Lo, the day