Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/107

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But now the lofty strife is o'er, And Liberty shall weep no more. At length imperial Otho's voice Bids her devoted sons rejoice; And he, who battled to restore The glories and the rights of yore, Whose accents, like the clarion's sound, Could burst the dead repose around, Again his native Rome shall see, The sceptred city of the free! And young Stephania waits the hour When leaves her lord his fortress-tower, Her ardent heart with joy elate, That seems beyond the reach of fate; Her mien, like creature from above, All vivified with hope and love.

Fair is her form, and in her eye Lives all the soul of Italy! A meaning lofty and inspired, As by her native day-star fired; Such wild and high expression, fraught With glances of impassion'd thought,