IMPERIAL city, slumb'ring on the throne
Of vanished empire, once thy voice and hands
Rocked the wide world; thy finger wove the lands
Into thy girdle; who for crown alone
Didst wear the stars. Yet still in undertone
5
Man hears thy deathless utterance, tho' Time's sands
Roll centuries; thou clasp'st the earth with bands
Of speech, art, law, and subtle powers unknown.
Thou wast not meant to die; thy mighty heart
Pulsed with the universe. Thy deeds of old
10
Flame like the sunset skies thro' clouds which throng;
They blazon on thy throne a name apart
In red of mighty victories, in gold
Of all things valorous and great and strong.
Frederick George Scott
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rome-9/
