4579633Poems — The Wall-Flower of the Ruins of RomeHelen Hunt Jackson
THE WALL-FLOWER OF THE RUINS OF ROME.
GOLDEN-WINGED on guard at crumbled gateAnd fallen wall of emperors and kings,Whose very names are now forgotten things,Thou standest here, in faithfulness to waitThe centuries through, and of the ancient stateKeep up the semblance. Never footstep ringsAcross the stones; and yet, if sun but flingsOne ray, a gleam, like gleam of burnished plateOn mailed men, thy hands have lit, and sentAlong the gray and tottering battlement,And flung out yellow banners, pricked with red,Which need not shame a royal house to spread.Ah, golden-winged, the whole of thy deep spellI cannot fathom, and thou wilt not tell.
THE WALL-FLOWER OF THE RUINS OF ROME.
"O, golden-winged, on guard at crumbled gateAnd fallen wall of emperors and kings."
GOLDEN-WINGED on guard at crumbled gateAnd fallen wall of emperors and kings,Whose very names are now forgotten things,Thou standest here, in faithfulness to wait The centuries through, and of the ancient stateKeep up the semblance. Never footstep ringsAcross the stones; and yet, if sun but flingsOne ray, a gleam, like gleam of burnished plateOn mailed men, thy hands have lit, and sentAlong the gray and tottering battlement,And flung out yellow banners, pricked with red,Which need not shame a royal house to spread.Ah, golden-winged, the whole of thy deep spellI cannot fathom, and thou wilt not tell.
