If Hope’s familiar whispers merit faith, Await my steps when they the breezy height Shall range of philosophic Tusculum;[90] Or Sabine vales[91] explored inspire a wish 255 To meet the shade of Horace by the side Of his Bandusian fount;[92]--or I invoke His presence to point out the spot where once He sate, and eulogized with earnest pen Peace, leisure, freedom, moderate desires; 260 And all the immunities of rural life Extolled, behind Vacuna’s crumbling fane.[93] Or let me loiter, soothed with what is given Nor asking more, on that delicious Bay,[94] Parthenope’s Domain--Virgilian haunt, 265 Illustrated with never-dying verse,[95] And, by the Poet’s laurel-shaded tomb,[96] Age after age to Pilgrims from all lands Endeared. And who--if not a man as cold In heart as dull in brain--while pacing ground 270 Chosen by Rome’s legendary Bards, high minds Out of her early struggles well inspired To localize heroic acts--could look Upon the spots with undelighted eye, Though even to their last syllable the Lays 275 And very names of those who gave them birth Have perished?--Verily, to her utmost depth, Imagination feels what Reason fears not To recognize, the lasting virtue lodged In those bold fictions that, by deeds assigned 280 To the Valerian, Fabian, Curian Race, And others like in fame, created Powers With attributes from History derived, By Poesy irradiate, and yet graced, Through marvellous felicity of skill, 285 With something more propitious to high aims Than either, pent within her separate sphere, Can oft with justice claim. And not disdaining Union with those primeval energies To virtue consecrate, stoop ye from your height 290 Christian Traditions! at my Spirit’s call Descend, and, on the brow of ancient Rome As she survives in ruin, manifest Your glories mingled with the brightest hues Of her memorial halo, fading, fading, 295 But never to be extinct while Earth endures. O come, if undishonoured by the prayer, From all her Sanctuaries!--Open for my feet Ye Catacombs, give to mine eyes a glimpse Of the Devout, as, ’mid your glooms convened 300 For safety, they of yore enclasped the Cross[97] On knees that ceased from trembling, or intoned Their orisons with voices half-suppressed, But sometimes heard, or fancied to be heard, Even at this hour. And thou Mamertine prison,[98] 305 Into that vault receive me from whose depth Issues, revealed in no presumptuous vision, Albeit lifting human to divine,