Classic and Contemporary Poetry
CONSPIRACY OF RIENZI, by THOMAS MOORE Poet's Biography First Line: Twas a proud moment - ev'n to hear the words Alternate Author Name(s): Little, Thomas Subject(s): Travel | ||||||||
'Twas a proud moment-ev'n to hear the words Of Truth and Freedom ' mid these temples breath'd, And see, once more, the Forum shine with swords, That glimpse, that vision of a brighter day, For his dear ROME, must to a Roman be, Short as it was, worth ages pass'd away In the dull lapse of hopeless slavery. 'Twas on a night of May, beneath that moon, Which had, through many an age, seen Time untune The strings of this Great Empire, till it fell From his rude hands, a broken, silent shell The sound of the church clock, near ADRIAN'S Tomb, Summon'd the warriors, who had risen for ROME, To meet unarm'd, -with none to watch them there, But God's own eye, -and pass the night in pray'r. Holy beginning of a holy cause, When heroes, girt for Freedom's combat, pause Before high Heav'n, and, humble in their might, Call down its blessing on that coming fight. At dawn, in arms, went forth the patriot band; And, as the breeze, fresh from the TIBER, fann'd Their gilded gonfalons, all eyes could see The palm- tree there, the sword, the keys of Heav'n Types of the justice, peace, and liberty, That were to bless them, when their chains were riv'n. On to the Capitol the pageant mov'd, While many a Shade of other times, that still Around that grave of grandeur sighing rov'd, Hung o'er their footsteps up the Sacred Hill, And heard its mournful echoes, as the last High-minded heirs of the Republic pass'd. Twas then that thou, their Tribune, (name, which brought Dreams of lost glory to each patriot's thought, ) Didst, with a spirit Rome in vain shall seek To wake up in her sons again, thus speak: 'ROMANS, look round you-on this sacred place: There once stood shrines, and gods, and god- like men. What see you now? what solitary trace Is left of all, that made ROME'S glory then? The shrines are sunk, the Sacred Mount bereft Ev'n of its name-and nothing now remains But the deep mem'ry of that glory, left To whet our pangs and aggravate our chains! But shall this be?-our sun and sky the same, Treading the very soil our fathers trode, What with'ring curse hath fall'n on soul and frame, What visitation hath there come from God, To blast our strength, and rot us into slaves, Here, on our great forefathers' glorious graves It cannot be rise up, ye Mighty Dead, If we, the living, are too weak to crush These tyrant priests, that o'er your empire tread, Till all but Romans at Rome's tameness blush! Happy, PALMYRA, in thy desert domes, Where only date- trees sigh and serpents hiss; And thou, whose pillars are but silent homes For the stork's brood, superb PERSEPOLIS! Thrice happy both, that your extinguish'd race Have left no embers-no half- living trace- No slaves, to crawl around the once proud spot, Till past renown in present shame's forgot. While ROME, the Queen of all, whose very wrecks, If lone and lifeless through a desert hurl'd , Would wear more true magnificence than decks The' assembled thrones of all the' existing world- ROME, ROME alone, is haunted, stain'd and curst, Through ev'ry spot her princely TIBER laves, By living human things-the deadliest, worst, This earth engenders-tyrants and their slaves And we-oh shame! -we, who have ponder'd o'er The patriot's lesson and the poet's lay; Have mounted up the streams of ancient lore, Tracking our country's glories all the way Ev'n we have tamely, basely kiss'd the ground Before that Papal Power, -that Ghost of Her, The World's Imperial mistress-sitting, crown'd And ghastly, on her mould' ring sepulchre! But this is past: -too long have lordly priests And priestly lords led us, with all our pride With'ring about us-like devoted beasts, Dragg'd to the shrine, with faded garlands tied. 'Tis o'er-the dawn of our deliverance breaks! Up from his sleep of centuries awakes The Genius of the Old Republic, free As first he stood, in chainless majesty, And sends his voice through ages yet to come, Proclaiming ROME, ROME, ROME, Eternal ROME! ' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RICHARD, WHAT'S THAT NOISE? by RICHARD HOWARD LOOKING FOR THE GULF MOTEL by RICHARD BLANCO RIVERS INTO SEAS by LYNDA HULL DESTINATIONS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE ONE WHO WAS DIFFERENT by RANDALL JARRELL THE CONFESSION OF ST. JIM-RALPH by DENIS JOHNSON SESTINA: TRAVEL NOTES by WELDON KEES WHERE THE TRACK VANISHES by GALWAY KINNELL A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE |
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