THOU art the world's desired, the golden fleece, Of Time's adventurers faring down to Hell, But Helen's self dwelt not so far from peace Nor so beset since lofty Ilium fell. Tyrants would pluck thee as men pluck a rose, Carthage and Greece, the Vandal and the Goth; Now more are added to thy many foes From East and West, ay, thou hast suffered both. Greece was enslaved, and Carthage is but dust, But thou art living, maugre all thy scars, To bear fresh wounds of rapine and of lust, Immortal victim of unnumbered wars. Nor shalt thou cease until we cease to be Whose hearts are thine, belovèd Italy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARY MAGDALENE by GEORGE HERBERT LUKE HAVERGAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 1. AIR by JOHN ARMSTRONG SPLENDID ISOLATION; A MORAL FROM LEXINTON, 1775 by KATHARINE LEE BATES PSALM 140 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE SIDEWALKS OF NEW YORK by JAMES W. BLAKE DEMON by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK GLIMPSES OF ITALY: 5. LIKE PAESTUM'S TEMPLE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |