Grave dignity, and reticence, and care: Rome never bred but rulers; Rome, whose womb Gave to the earth this Europe which is ours! Her progress was the progress of the world, Which fell with her, and now disjected lies Prone in the dust, a prey to savage strife. “To build it up again! I dreamed to raise An empire on the ruins of the old, Whose seat should be the Rhine. I was a voice Crying within the wilderness. Alas! The vision is for the appointed time. These eyes shall see it not. But even now There moves among the people a desire For some firm order. Like the blind they grope, Or those who walk in darkness, stretching out Their hands, whose sense may take the part of sight And feel the unseen; yet many times they fall, Or wander from the object of their quest For lack of eyes. Mine eyes were for the blind, My sight was for a lamp unto their feet, My hands to guide them; but they trusted not, Seeking, each one, an individual path, By divers ways, unto the common end. Not in these nobles, insubordinate, Who wanton through our fertile land of France, Is my assurance fixed; but in the mass Of common folk, who feel the crowning need For a co-ordinate and civic zeal That buildeth slowly, but whose work endures. There, where that people is, is Rome renewed; And where is Rome is Cæsar. Lo! the dawn Uplifts, unto the stars, her silver spear And parts the darkness. Shall I give thee thanks, O priest, for this long vigil thou hast kept With me through all the darkness and despair? But take this ring as a memorial; These many nights it has lain by my heart, Secreted from the spoilers. When they robbed All else of worth from me, they did not look For love between my breasts, and there it lay, This emerald, which Merow gave to me, Wedding me with it. Hide it in thy cowl. Now go from me, for now I am content To die, nor fear the little hour of pain, That comes ere all pain ceases in a sleep.”