VI.

PLEA FOR THE HISTORIAN.

FORBEAR to deem the Chronicler unwise,
Ungentle, or untouched by seemly ruth,
Who, gathering up all that Time's envious tooth
Has spared of sound and grave realities,
Firmly rejects those dazzling flatteries,
Dear as they are to unsuspecting Youth,

That might have drawn down Clio from the skies*
To vindicate the majesty of truth.

Such was her office while she walked with men,
A Muse, who,1 not unmindful of her Sire
All-ruling Jove, whate'er the2 theme might be
Revered her Mother, sage Mnemosyne,

And taught her faithful servants how the lyre
Should3 animate, but not mislead, the pen.†

Her rights to claim, and vindicate the truth.
Her faithful Servants while she walked with men
Were they who,

their

1842.

1842.

* Clio, daughter of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the first-born of the Muses, presided over history. It was her office to record the actions of illustrious

heroes.-ED.

+

Quem virum-lyra

-sumes celebrare Clio?

-W.W., 1842.

VII.

AT ROME.

[I HAVE a private interest in this Sonnet, for I doubt whether it would ever have been written but for the lively picture given me by Anna Ricketts of what she had witnessed of the indignation and sorrow expressed by some Italian noblemen of their acquaintance upon the surrender, which circumstances had obliged them to make, of the best portion of their family mansions to strangers.]

THEY-who have seen the noble Roman's scorn
Break forth at thought of laying down his head,
When the blank day is over, garreted

In his ancestral palace, where, from morn

To night, the desecrated floors are worn

By feet of purse-proud strangers; they-who have read
In one meek smile, beneath a peasant's shed,
How patiently the weight of wrong is borne;
They-who have heard some learned Patriot treat1

Of freedom, with mind grasping the whole theme
From ancient Rome, downwards through that bright dream
Of Commonwealths, each city a starlike seat

Of rival glory; they-fallen Italy

Nor must, nor will, nor can, despair of Thee!

VIII.

NEAR ROME, IN SIGHT OF ST PETER'S.

LONG has the dew been dried on tree and lawn;
O'er man and beast a not unwelcome boon
Is shed, the languor of approaching noon;
To shady rest withdrawing or withdrawn
Mute are all creatures, as this couchant fawn,

1

1845.

They-who have heard thy lettered sages treat

1842.

Save insect-swarms that hum in air afloat,

Save that the Cock is crowing, a shrill note,

Startling and shrill as that which roused the dawn.
-Heard in that hour, or when, as now, the nerve
Shrinks from the note1 as from a mis-timed thing,
Oft for a holy warning may it serve,

Charged with remembrance of his sudden sting,
His bitter tears, whose name the Papal Chair
And yon resplendent Church are proud to bear.

IX.

AT ALBANO.*

[THIS Sonnet is founded on simple fact, and was written to enlarge, if possible, the views of those who can see nothing but evil in the intercessions countenanced by the Church of Rome. That they are in many respects lamentably pernicious must be acknowledged; but, on the other hand, they who reflect, while they see and observe, cannot but be struck with instances which will prove that it is a great error to condemn in all cases such mediation as purely idolatrous. This remark bears with especial force upon addresses to the Virgin.]

DAYS passed-and Monte Calvo would not clear

His head from mist; and, as the wind sobbed through Albano's dripping Ilex avenue,†

My dull forebodings in a Peasant's ear

Found casual vent. She said, "Be of good cheer;
Our yesterday's procession did not sue

1

1845.

voice

1842.

Albano, 10 miles south-east of Rome, is a small town and episcopal residence, a favourite autumnal resort of Roman citizens. It is on the site of the ruins of the villa of Pompey. Monte Carlo (the Monte Calvo of this Sonnet) is the ancient Mons Latialis, 3127 feet high. At its summit a convent of Passionist Monks occupies the site of the ancient temple of Jupiter.-ED.

+ The ilex-grove of the Villa Doria is one of the most marked features of Albano.-ED.

In vain; the sky will change to sunny blue,
Thanks to our Lady's grace." I smiled to hear,
But not in scorn :-the Matron's Faith may lack
The heavenly sanction needed to ensure
Fulfilment; but, we trust, her upward track1
Stops not at this low point, nor wants the lure
Of flowers the Virgin without fear may own,
For by her Son's blest hand the seed was sown.

X.

NEAR Anio's stream,* I spied a gentle Dove
Perched on an olive branch, and heard her cooing
'Mid new-born blossoms that soft airs were wooing,
While all things present told of joy and love.
But restless Fancy left that olive grove

To hail the exploratory Bird renewing

Hope for the few, who, at the world's undoing,
On the great flood were spared to live and move.

O bounteous Heaven! signs true as dove and bough
Brought to the ark are coming evermore,

Given though we seek them not, but, while we plough2
This sea of life without a visible shore,

Do neither promise ask nor grace implore

In what alone is ours, the living Now.3

Even though men seek them not, but, while they plough

* The Anio joins the Tiber north of Rome, flowing from the north-east past Tivoli.-ED.

XI.

FROM THE ALBAN HILLS, LOOKING TOWARDS ROME.

FORGIVE, illustrious Country! these deep sighs,
Heaved less for thy bright plains and hills bestrown

With monuments decayed or overthrown,

For all that tottering stands or prostrate lies,
Than for like scenes in moral vision shown,
Ruin perceived for keener sympathies;

Faith crushed, yet proud of weeds, her gaudy crown;
Virtues laid low, and mouldering energies.

Yet why prolong this mournful strain ?-Fallen Power,
Thy fortunes, twice exalted,* might provoke

Verse to glad notes prophetic of the hour

When thou, uprisen, shalt break thy double yoke,
And enter, with prompt aid from the Most High,
On the third stage of thy great destiny.†

XII.

NEAR THE LAKE OF THRASYMENE.

WHEN here with Carthage Rome to conflict came,‡
An earthquake, mingling with the battle's shock,

* The ancient Classic period, and that of the Renaissance.-Ed.

+ This period seems to have been already entered. Compare Mrs Browning's "Poems before Congress," passim.-ED.

The Carthaginian general Hannibal defeated the Roman Consul C. Flaminius, near the lacus Trasimenus, B. c. 217, with a loss of 15,000 men. (See Livy, xxii. 4., &c.)--ED.