I STOOD upon the fallen and crumbling wall
Of Caesar's grand old palace, looking down
On desolate destruction all about,
The mighty relics of a mighty race
Now passed away forever, and I grew
Sad, as I thought that such a shapeless end
Attends all earthly grandeur. As my eye
Wandered along the ruined rampart's line,
It rested on a tree, the day before
Lifeless and dead as the gray piles about,
But now the balmy breath of new-born spring
Had waked it into being once again,
And the white blossoms covered o'er and hid
The shapeless skeleton of yesterday.
Will it be so with Rome? Will she awake
From her long sleep of ages, and once more
Stand proudly forth, the mistress of the world, -
Or is her life forever passed away?
STULTUS.
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Communication.
