Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/108

As fancy sheds in visions bright,
O'er priestess of the God of Light!
And the dark locks that lend her face
A youthful and luxuriant grace,
Wave o'er her cheek, whose kindling dyes
Seem from the fire within to rise;
But deepen'd by the burning heaven
To her own land of sunbeams given.
Italian art that fervid glow
Would o'er ideal beauty throw,
And with such ardent life express
Her high-wrought dreams of loveliness;–
Dreams which, surviving Empire's fall,
The shade of glory still recal.

But see,–the banner of the brave
O'er Adrian's tomb hath ceased to wave.
'Tis lower'd—and now Stephania's eye
Can well the martial train descry,
Who, issuing from that ancient dome,
Pour through the crowded streets of Rome.
Now from her watch-tower on the height,
With step as fabled wood-nymph's light,