STOP on the Appian Way, In the Roman Campagna; Stop at my tomb, The tomb of Cecilia Metella. To-day as you see it Alaric saw it, ages ago, When he, with his pale-visaged Goths, Sat at the gates of Rome, Reading his Runic shield. Odin, thy curse remains! Beneath these battlements My bones were stirred with Roman pride, Though centuries before my Romans died: Now my bones are dust; the Goths are dust. The river-bed is dry where sleeps the king, My tomb remains! When Rome commanded the earth Great were the Metelli: I was Metellus' wife; I loved him -- and I died. Then with slow patience built he this memorial: Each century marks his love. Pass by on the Appian Way The tomb of Cecilia Metella; Wild shepherds alone seek its shelter, Wild buffaloes tramp at its base. Deep is its desolation, Deep as the shadow of Rome! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MINERVA JONES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS COMING DOWN TO THE DESERT AT LORDBURG, N.M. by HAYDEN CARRUTH LETTER TO JOSEPH WARREN by ROBERT FROST MADMAN OF THE SOUTH SIDE by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: J. MILTON MILES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO WHISTLER, AMERICAN; ON LOAN EXHIBIT OF PAINTINGS AT TATE GALLERY by EZRA POUND |