Читать книгу The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No. 1, July, 1862 - Various - Страница 9

By Roman watch-tower, on the mountaintop,

We stood, at sunset, gazing like the eagles

From their cloud-eyrie, o'er the broad Campagna,

To the Albanian hills, which boldly rose,

Bathed in a flood of red and pearly light.

Far off, and fading in the coming night,

Lay the Abruzzi, where the pale, white walls

Of towns gleamed faintly on their purple sides.

The evening air was tremulous with sounds:

The thrilling chirp of insects, twittering birds,

Barking of shepherds' fierce, white, Roman dogs;

While from the narrow path, far down below,

We heard a mournful rondinella ring,

Sung by a home-returning mountaineer.

Then, as the daylight slowly climbed the hills,

And the soft wind breathed music to their steps,

O'er the old Roman watch-tower marched the stars,

In their bright legions—conquerors of night—

Shedding from silver armor shining light;

As once the Roman legions, ages past,

Marched on to conquest o'er the Latin way,

Gleaming, white-stoned, so far beneath our gaze.

Giula di Segni, 'mid the Volscians born,

Streamed in thy veins that fiery, Roman blood,

Curled thy proud lip, and fired thy eagle eyes.

Faultless in beauty, as the noble forms

Painted on rare Etrurian vase of old;

How life, ennobled by thy love, swept on,

Serene, above the mean and pitiful!

Stars! that still sparkle o'er old Segni's walls,

Oh! mirror back to me one glance from eyes

That yet may watch you from that Roman tower.