Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/145

Rh

Its joys! oh! mark yon proud triumvir's mien, And read their annals on that brow of care! 'Midst pleasure's lotus-bowers his steps have been; Earth's brightest pathway led him to despair. Trust not the glance that fain would yet inspire The buoyant energies of days gone by; There is delusion in its meteor-fire, And all within is shame, is agony! Away! the tear in bitterness may flow, But there are smiles which bear a stamp of deeper woe.

Thy cheek is sunk, and faded as thy fame, O lost, devoted Roman! yet thy brow To that ascendant and undying name, Pleads with stern loftiness thy right e'en now. Thy glory is departed—but hath left A lingering light around thee—in decay Not less than kingly, though of all bereft, Thou seem'st as empire had not pass'd away. Supreme in ruin! teaching hearts elate, A deep, prophetic dread of still mysterious fate!