Long had the Orient owned the sovereign sway Of Rome imperial, and in forced submission Had bowed the neck to the oppressor's yoke. The corn of Syria, her fruits and wares, The pearls of India, Araby's perfumes, The golden treasures of the mountains, all Profusely poured in her luxurious lap, Crowned to the full her proud magnificence. Rome regal, throned on her eternal hills, With power supreme and wide-extended hand, Plundered the prostrate nations without stint Of all she coveted, and, chiefly thou, O Liberty, the birthright boon of Heaven. But Rome had passed her noon; her despotism Was overgrown; an earthquake was at work At her foundations; and new dynasties, Striking their roots in ripening revolutions, Were soon to sway the destinies of realms. The East was in revolt. The myriad seeds Of dark rebellion, sown by tyranny, And watered by the blood of patriots slain, Were springing into life on every hand. Success was alternating in this strife 'Twixt power and _right_, and anxious Victory, With balance poised, the doubtful issue feared. Amid the fierce contention, 'mid the din Of war's sublime encounter, and the crash Of falling systems old, Palmyra's queen Followed her valiant lord, Palmyra's king. Ever beside him in the hour of peril, She warded from his breast the battle's rage; And in the councils of the cabinet Her prudent wisdom was her husband's guide.