Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 40 1834.pdf/31



She that cast down the empires of the world, And, in her proud triumphal course through Rome, Dragged them, from freedom and dominion hurled, Bound by the hair—pale, humbled, and o'ercome!

I see her now, dismantled of her state,— Spoiled of her sceptre,—crouching to the ground, Beneath a hostile car; and lo! the weight Of fetters her imperial neck around!

Oh! that a stranger's envious hand had wrought This desolation! for I then would say, "Vengeance, Italia!"—in the burning thought Losing my grief;— but 'tis the ignoble sway Of vice hath bowed thee! Discord, slothful ease,— Theirs is that victor-car!—thy tyrant lords are these!