65
MARIUS AT THE RUINS OF CARTHAGE.
BY L. E. L.
He turn'd him from the setting sun,
Now sinking in the bay:—
He knew that so his course was run,
But with no coming day;
From gloomy seas and stormy skies
He had no other morn to rise.
He sat, the column at his feet,
The temple low beside;
A few wild flowers blossom'd sweet
Above the column's pride;
And many a wave of drifted sand
The arch, the once triumphal, spann'd.
The place of pleasant festival,
The calm and quiet home,
The senate, with its pillar'd hall,
The palace with its dome,—
All things in which men boast and trust
Lay prone in the unconscious dust.
Yet this the city which once stood
A queen beside the sea,
Who said she ruled the ocean flood
Wherever there might be
Path for bold oar or daring prow:—
Where are her thousand galleys now?
G 3
