<div><SPAN name="THE_COLISEUM"></SPAN></div>
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<h2><i>THE COLISEUM</i></h2>
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Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary<br/>
Of lofty contemplation left to Time<br/>
By buried centuries of pomp and power!<br/>
At length—at length—after so many days<br/>
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,<br/>
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)<br/>
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,<br/>
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within<br/>
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!<br/>
<br/>
Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!<br/>
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!<br/>
I feel ye now—I feel ye in your strength—<br/>
O spells more sure than e'er Judaean king<br/>
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!<br/>
O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee<br/>
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!<br/>
<br/>
Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!<br/>
Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold<br/>
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!<br/>
Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair<br/>
Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!<br/>
Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,<br/>
Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home,<br/>
Lit by the wan light of the horned moon,<br/>
The swift and silent lizard of the stones!<br/>
<br/>
But stay! these walls—these ivy-clad arcades—<br/>
These mouldering plinths—these sad and blackened shafts—<br/>
These vague entablatures—this crumbling frieze—<br/>
These shattered cornices—this wreck—this ruin—<br/>
These stones—alas! these grey stones—are they all—<br/>
All of the famed, and the colossal left<br/>
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?<br/>
<br/>
"Not all"—the Echoes answer me—"not all!<br/>
Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever<br/>
From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,<br/>
As melody from Memnon to the Sun.<br/>
We rule the hearts of mightiest men—we rule<br/>
With a despotic sway all giant minds.<br/>
We are not impotent—we pallid stones.<br/>
Not all the power is gone—not all our fame—<br/>
Not all the magic of our high renown—<br/>
Not all the wonder that encircles us—<br/>
Not all the mysteries that in us lie—<br/>
Not all the memories that hang upon<br/>
And cling around about us as a garment,<br/>
Clothing us in a robe of more than glory."<br/></p>
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