Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/80



to this damp recess whose air with noon Was never warm and dry, Whose pining trees shine never to the moon, Wherever in the sleepless nights of June, She wander in the unincumbered sky.

Here lo! the wounded Lion:—breathing hard The unconquerable Beast Dies on the Shield he was employed to guard; Prom the imprisonment of his true ward Even by the mortal torture unreleased.

In such an emblem doth the rock unfold A story not to fade! How to a stranger for a stranger's gold The chance of life and life's delight was sold, And when 'twas forfeit, faithfully was paid.

Sad be the land—be sad and ever mourn, That might not see arise, Gladdening her silent paths at every turn, A votive altar whereupon should burn The memory of some nobler sacrifice!