WHEN Roman fields are red with cyclamen, And in the palace gardens you may find, Under great leaves and sheltering briony-bind, Clusters of cream-white violets, oh then The ruined city of immortal men Must smile, a little to her fate resigned, And through her corridors the slow warm wind Gush harmonies beyond a mortal ken. Such soft favonian airs upon a flute, Such shadowy censers burning live perfume, Shall lead the mystic city to her tomb; Nor flowerless springs, nor autumns without fruit, Nor summer mornings when the winds are mute, Trouble her soul till Rome be no more Rome. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THYESTES, ACT 2: CHORUS by LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA THE SOLITUDE OF SPACE by FLORA CECILE ALLISON THE WET WASH by MARIANA BACHMAN CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 4. WORTHY MEMORY by WILLIAM BASSE PSALM 119 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |