Volume IV Part 24 (1/2)

I am listening here in Rome.

”England's strong,” say many speakers, ”If she winks, the Czar must come, Prow and topsail, to the breakers.”

II.

”England's rich in coal and oak,”

Adds a Roman, getting moody; ”If she shakes a travelling cloak, Down our Appian roll the scudi.”

III.

”England's righteous,” they rejoin: ”Who shall grudge her exaltations When her wealth of golden coin Works the welfare of the nations?”

IV.

I am listening here in Rome.

Over Alps a voice is sweeping-- ”England's cruel, save us some Of these victims in her keeping!”

V.

As the cry beneath the wheel Of an old triumphant Roman Cleft the people's shouts like steel, While the show was spoilt for no man,

VI.

Comes that voice. Let others shout, Other poets praise my land here: I am sadly sitting out, Praying, ”G.o.d forgive her grandeur.”

VII.

Shall we boast of empire, where Time with ruin sits commissioned?

In G.o.d's liberal blue air Peter's dome itself looks wizened;

VIII.

And the mountains, in disdain, Gather back their lights of opal From the dumb despondent plain Heaped with jawbones of a people.

IX.

Lordly English, think it o'er, Caesar's doing is all undone!

You have cannons on your sh.o.r.e, And free Parliaments in London;

X.

Princes' parks, and merchants' homes, Tents for soldiers, s.h.i.+ps for seamen,-- Ay, but ruins worse than Rome's In your pauper men and women.

XI.

Women leering through the gas (Just such bosoms used to nurse you), Men, turned wolves by famine--pa.s.s!

Those can speak themselves, and curse you.