Page:Marius Amongst the Ruins of Carthage.pdf/3

 The kingly shadow seem'd to lift his chain, Gaz'd on the palm, his ancient sceptre torn, And his eye kindl'd with immortal scorn! "And sleep'st thou, Roman?" cried his voice austere; "Shall son of Latium find a refuge here? Awake! arise! to speed the hour of fate, When Rome shall fall, as Carthage, desolate! Go! with her children's flower, the free, the brave, People the silent chambers of the grave; So shall the course of ages yet to be, More swiftly waft the day, avenging me!

"Yes! from the awful gulph of years to come, I hear a voice that prophecies her doom; I see the trophies of her pride decay, And her long line of triumphs pass away, Lost in the depths of time—while sinks the star That led her march of heroes from afar!

"Lo! from the frozen forests of the North, The sons of slaughter pour in myriads forth! Who shall awake the mighty?—will thy woe, City of thrones! disturb the realms below? Call on the dead to hear thee! let thy cries Summon their shadowy legions to arise, Array the ghosts of conquerors on thy walls! —Barbarians revel in their ancient halls! And their lost children bend the subject-knee, 'Midst the proud tombs and trophies of the free!