Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/173



sun sets brightly—but a ruddier glow O'er Afric's heaven the flames of Carthage throw; Her walls have sunk, and pyramids of fire In lurid splendor from her domes aspire; Sway'd by the wind, they wave—while glares the sky As when the desert's red Simoom is nigh; The sculptured altar, and the pillar'd hall, Shine out in dreadful brightness ere they fall; Far o'er the seas the light of ruin streams, Rock, wave, and isle, are crimson'd by its beams; While captive thousands, bound in Roman chains Gaze in mute horror on their burning fanes; And shouts of triumph, echoing far around, Swell from the victor's tents with ivy crown'd*.